


A Kind of Paradise

by MyrsineMezzo



Series: A Kind of Paradise [1]
Category: The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Alarkling - Freeform, F/M, Temporary Character Death, darkling/alina starkov - Freeform, fairly slow burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-01-20 21:49:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 26
Words: 84,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21288716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyrsineMezzo/pseuds/MyrsineMezzo
Summary: What if Alina never ran away after Baghra's revelation inShadow and Bone?Trapped in the Little Palace, Alina fights to change both her fate and the Darkling's mind before the endless night of the Shadow Fold swallows them whole.
Relationships: The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova/Alina Starkov
Series: A Kind of Paradise [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1758988
Comments: 256
Kudos: 504





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my god, I've wanted to write this for so long. I'm pretty new at this, so comments and likes are always appreciated! These characters truly belong to the queen, Leigh Bardugo, of course.
> 
> "But man is a fickle and disreputable creature and perhaps, like a chess-player, is interested in the process of attaining his goal rather than the goal itself.” - Fyodor Dostoyevsky

"All right. What do I do?"

...

"I want you to disappear, girl."

...

"We've run out of time."

...

"You think I don't love my son. But I do. It is because I love him that I will not let him put himself beyond redemption."

....

Below the gentle gaze of a winter moon, a small ivy-covered door opened onto an empty courtyard of the Little Palace of Os Alta. All was silent except for the distant trill of an orchestra playing somewhere in the distance. A cold winter wind blew a few dead leaves in skittering patterns over the paving stones, but beyond that, there was nothing and no-one to be seen.

A face suddenly peered around the edge of the door. The face belonged to an old woman whose surprisingly dark hair contrasted with her pale skin. She looked out onto the still scene before her with an air of ruthless determination. Seeing that there was nobody in the vicinity, she stalked through the doorway, practically dragging a younger, taller woman behind her. 

Once they were in the courtyard, the two stood for a moment in silence, just looking at each other. 

Finally the tall woman said, "Thank you, Baghra. For everything."

"Hmph," the older woman replied. "Go now, girl. Be quick and take care."

The younger woman's heart filled with trepidation, but she was Alina Starkov, and she had to act as if she was braver than she felt. Composing her expression into one of calm confidence, Alina gave Baghra a tight smile. Then she turned her gaze toward the cart belonging to a theatrical troupe which stood barely visible in the distance. As the two had agreed upon, she would hide in the back of the cart, and it would take her away past the palace walls and perhaps past the walls of the capital entirely. 

A flute's shrill piping carried on the wind, and Alina glanced towards the grand palace next door. The music drifting through the air belonged to the long-awaited Winter Fête. A bevy of people celebrated within the palace's walls and strolled through its pleasure gardens. As long as none of them noticed her, everything would be fine. And who among that glittering throng would take notice of a girl in peasant clothes who could easily be a servant sent on an errand by her mistress.

Alina could scarcely believe she'd been at the celebration only an hour earlier, surrounded by friends and courtiers, dazzling everyone's eyes with a display of her Grisha power. Her abilities as the Sun Summoner had been on full display that night. Now she was cloaking herself in a disguise and fleeing under cover of night from the place she'd come to think of as her home. Only the custom-made gloves lined with mirrors that allowed her to focus her power remained with her. She'd left everything else behind, and she felt bare without the familiar weight of her kefta.

Alina was already imagining how she would do her best to walk quickly towards the distant cart in a way that wouldn't draw attention. She would climb into the back of the vehicle to make her escape from the palace grounds just as Baghra had told her she must do. She would leave this place and avoid being swallowed by the Darkling's gnawing ambition to rule Ravka. She would be rid of his influence. 

She would never see him again.

The thought made her hesitate.

What if this was all a mistake? What if Baghra was wrong and Alina was a fool to put her trust in the older woman's dire predictions? 

"What are you waiting for, girl? Go!" Baghra hissed.

Alina nodded. This was what had to happen. The fate of her world and the kingdom was at stake. Shaking off any lingering traces of fear and indecision, she began to walk swiftly away. 

Before she'd taken a handful of steps, a stream of half a dozen guards rounded the walls of the Little Palace. The Darkling's _oprichniki_ moved into formation, drawing their rifles and pointing the weapons at both Alina and Baghra. Alina froze in disbelief and horror at the sight of the guards. 

Baghra, on the other hand, dropped into a fighting stance and called a swirl of shadows to form within her hands.

"Go," she bit out into the night air. "I'll give you a fighting chance. Don't let me die for nothing, girl."

Alina stayed locked in place where she was. She couldn't let Baghra sacrifice herself. She didn't want the old woman's blood on her hands, and she tried frantically to think of another way out of a situation that was quickly unraveling.

"Now. Run!" Baghra shouted at her in anger and frustration. Seeing Alina's stillness, the old woman turned to face down the guards with a snarl. She raised her arms, shadows spiraling out from her palms. Alina could only watch as Baghra brought her hands together with a loud clap. The booming sound of the Cut rolled through the air. In the blink of an eye, two of the soldiers were on the ground. Alina felt a gasp building into a shriek that rose up out of her throat as she watched the blood beneath their bodies form dark pools. The liquid reflected the face of a moon that now seemed as uncaring as it had been friendly and calm mere moments before.

Everything seemed to be happening both at high speed and in slow motion. Alina's eyes could barely track the movements of Baghra and the Darkling's men. Before her former teacher could raise her hands to perform the Cut again, the _oprichniki_ swarmed her. They were too close to Baghra for her to fight them off. Two of the men grabbed the older woman, shoving her to the ground. A third man captured her hands in order to tie them together behind her back. It was almost as if they had come prepared for just such an attack. Which was crazy. Baghra's powers had been kept a secret from everyone. Everyone except for Alina and one man. Baghra's son.

He had known, Alina thought numbly. Somehow the Darkling had known she would run and that Baghra would help her.

At that thought, it was as if time snapped back into place. Alina raised her right hand, sliding one of her mirrors from its place tucked inside her fighting glove to the space between her index and third fingers. A beam of light blossomed from her palm, bouncing off the mirror and into the eyes of the guards advancing on her. The men cried out, flinging their arms over their faces against the blinding onslaught. Satisfied that they would be out of commission for a handful of minutes, Alina turned so that she could run to Baghra's side. 

In that instant, she felt the impact of something land hard behind her ear. Pain shot through her skull. She staggered, and the guard who had circled behind her to hit her with his rifle butt grabbed her arm. He forced the limb behind her back and up so high that it was nearly ripped out of its socket. She cried out at the searing pain from her injuries and dropped her mirror.

Her body felt slow and sluggish. Still, she did her best to fling her aching head back, trying to use her defensive training to full effect and break her captor's nose. He cursed, but held onto her, ducking her attack and grabbing her other arm by the wrist. In one swift gesture, he brought her hands together behind her back. 

As Alina's vision swam, she saw the once-blinded guards making their way towards her. Her hands were tied like Baghra's in mere moments, and both women were jerked upright. Each was held between two guards while the other men flanked them to ensure there would be no escape. 

The entire skirmish had happened so quickly. Now that it was over, Alina's mind spun and reeled. Both her inability to think straight and the warm liquid seeping down her neck told her that her injuries were worse than she had first thought. Without the brute strength of the guards holding her up, she would have fallen on her face and passed out on the courtyard paving stones. 

Alina felt herself pushed forward, and her legs barely worked to keep up with the pace the guards set. She realized they were moving back around the wall to where the guards had originally appeared. The _oprichniki_ marched her behind Baghra, and the older woman called out over her shoulder, "Still breathing, girl?"

"No talking!" barked a guard holding Baghra's arm, and he gave her a shake. As one, the guards began to move at an even quicker pace. Alina's stomach roiled, and she was aware that she might be sick at any moment. I must have a concussion, she thought, although the fog from her wound made it hard to remember what exactly she could do about that.

Rather than bringing their prisoners all the way around the Little Palace wall to the massive front doors as Alina had expected, the guards dragged the two women to a door along a stretch of bare wall. Alina dimly recognized it as a side door leading into the familiar domed hall where the Grisha ate together every day. The door stood open, and Alina felt herself pushed through the entrance and back into the Little Palace. 

The tables were bare, and the silence was so complete that one could have heard a pin drop. Everyone else was still at the Winter Fête. It would probably last well into the night and even into the early hours of the morning. There was nobody to come to her aid or even to take note of what was happening.

Candles guttered in stands and on sconces. These gave off enough light for her to know they were marching towards the Darkling's table set at the far end of the hall. Beyond the table, the doors to his rooms were thrown wide. The darkness flooding out of them sent dread shooting through Alina's veins. 

She could barely think. There had to be a way out. But instead, her body was being forced towards the inky blackness. As the shadows consumed her, she thought of everything the Darkling had ever said to her. The words and phrases rolled around and around in her pounding head. 

_We all serve someone._

_The King is a child._

_You and I are going to change the world. Just wait._

Her vision swam, and she became aware that her forward motion had finally ceased. The scratching sound of a lantern being lit hissed through the air, and a glow brightened the edges of the room. Everything was silent around her for a long moment.

Then a calm, cool voice swept over her like the winter wind. 

"Hello, Alina." 

She shivered at the sound. Then her consciousness slipped away and everything faded to black.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm doing NaNoWriMo with this fic, and I should be posting pretty regularly. So here's the second chapter as well!

Awareness returned to Alina slowly. She stirred, vaguely aware of the lack of any pain in her head or her arm. Her body had been laid down, and her upper half was propped up on what felt like the softest of clouds. The pillows surrounding her carried a tantalizing, masculine smell. She found the scent to be achingly familiar, like a night outdoors in winter. 

She was blissfully warm, and Alina realized she was covered with a blanket and lying in a luxurious bed. The realization was surprising, and she tried to remember what had happened that she would wake up in such a place instead of in a prison. Alina supposed she must have passed out from the wound to her head, and she silently thanked the Saints that nothing hurt now. Someone must have sent for a healer. That thought made her wake further. 

Not "someone." The Darkling.

Alina kept her eyes resolutely closed as if she were still asleep, hoping it would give her time to plan her next move, but the Darkling's voice came to her from close by.

"You're awake."

There was no relief in his voice that she had recovered from her injury. It was simply an observation or perhaps a mild rebuke at her attempt to hide that she was conscious once more.

Alina opened her eyes. There was no reason not to. She was trapped, and she might as well see how bad things were going to be for her. It did no good to hide from whatever the Darkling had in store.

A canopy of black silk arched above her, and she confirmed that she was indeed reclining on a lavish bed. Her eyes flicked towards the place where she'd heard his voice moments before. The Darkling was seated at a desk with a surface covered in documents, reading one of his innumerable reports. His eyes met hers over the top of the paper. His gaze was steady, and she tried to interpret what hidden messages and motives might lie behind his quartz eyes.

When she realized what she was doing, she gave up with a flare of frustration running through her. Who knew what he was thinking or feeling? Could she take anything he said or allowed her to see at face value? Not likely.

She'd been a fool to think she knew him.

"I take it you're feeling better?" The Darkling asked.

Alina nodded, waiting to see if this was the calm before the storm. She wondered if he would rage at her or lock her away in some dungeon. She had tried to run from him and she couldn't predict how he would react to that fact.

Her eyes traveled over the room. The glow from both a lamp beside the bed and one on the desk revealed that it was a hexagonal chamber whose dark, ebony walls were carved in an elaborate pattern of slim, arching trees. Above these striking decorations, the ceiling that she could see beyond the bed's canopy curved upwards in a dome whose glimmering obsidian surface spoke of an artist's rendering of the night sky. Mother-of-pearl accents formed the shape of constellations to complete the impression.

The room held few furnishings beyond the desk, a dressing table with a mirror above it, and the bed she currently occupied. She couldn't help but notice that the bookshelves lining the ebony walls were crammed with volumes--more books than she had ever seen gathered in one room outside of the Little Palace's library.

Alina swiftly came to the conclusion based on the rich surroundings that this had to be the Darkling's personal chamber. A further realization came on the heels of that first thought: if this was his chamber, then she was lying in the Darkling's bed.

Her eyes flicked to his, and she saw he was watching her. A traitorous flush spread across her cheeks.

In return, a small smile played around his lips, and she knew he too was thinking about what they had done only a few hours earlier. Her mind flashed to thoughts of how they had been alone together, her back pressed against a closed door...The way he had kissed her lips and kissed his way down her neck...How his hand had closed around her naked thigh...How he had touched her and how he had been close to her in a way she'd never let anyone else be close. Had they not been interrupted, would she have ended up here in this very chamber with her head cradled by these same pillows and her body caressed by these same silk sheets?

The expression on his face said yes.

"Are you two quite done making eyes at each other?" 

Alina sat up, her head turning swiftly at the harsh sound of another voice in the room.

Baghra sat in a chair placed near two massive double doors made of the same dark ebony as the walls. Her hands remained tied behind her back and two guards stood on either side of her. If the older woman felt any discomfort in her position, she refused to show it. The only expression her face held was grim resignation.

Alina pushed the black damask comforter off of her and swung her legs around so that she perched on the edge of the bed. Refusing to be embarrassed or intimidated, she looked at a point just over the Darkling's shoulder. Perhaps if she didn't look directly at him, she would have the courage to say what she needed to say.

"Is it true?" she asked. "What Baghra says about you?"

There was a pause before he replied softly, "What is true, Alina, is that you tried to desert the Second Army, and you nearly succeeded. What is true is that treason of that kind is punishable by death."

Her eyes jerked to his, meeting his flat gaze.

"Death," she said disbelievingly.

"Rest assured that won't be your fate. I need you too much to have you marched outside the palace walls and shot." His cool tone belied the spark of anger she now saw in his eyes.

Alina gestured towards the guards. "Do they know what you are? Who you are? I don't think anyone would be following your orders if they knew what you've done."

Before she could even think of shouting his secrets for all the world to hear, the Darkling frowned and said curtly, "Out." His eyes never left Alina's, but the two _oprichniki_ obeyed, attuned to his every word. They left the room and shut the door behind them.

Silence reigned for a time before Alina spoke up, saying, "I asked you if it was true."

The Darkling raised one eyebrow. "I don't know what Baghra told you, Alina, or what you think you know--"

"I know she not a _tidemaker_ like you told me she was," Alina said fiercely. "I know she's your mother. I know you're both ancient, and I know you intend to use me to expand the Shadow Fold--which you created."

The smile dropped from his face. His expression became an unreadable mask.

"She told you all that, did she?"

"Do you deny it?"

"Of course I deny it," he said smoothly. "You must know how crazy what you're suggesting sounds."

Fury rose up in Alina, and she slammed her hands down on the side of the bed before she could stop herself. "Stop lying to me!" she exclaimed.

The Darkling's eyes flashed, and he paused again before saying, "I want you to think long and hard about what you are asking me, Alina. If I am everything you say I am...If I am the Black Heretic, then you would know how powerful I must be. How exactly would you plan to stop me from doing whatever I want--with you or without you?"

Alina choked on a breath. "You said you wouldn't kill me."

"I'm not going to kill you. But that doesn't mean I can't keep you contained so that I can do what needs to be done."

"What needs to be done," Alina repeated. She fixed him with a piercing stare, saying, "You would expand the Fold. You would condemn hundreds of people to die. And for what? To become even more powerful? You're already the most powerful Grisha in the world!"

The Darkling sighed. "You don't understand."

Baghra barked a laugh. Alina had almost forgotten she was in the room.

"Oh, she understands well enough, boy."

The Darkling turned on her, speaking in a tone sharper than Alina had ever heard him speak before. "You would do well not to push me. You are in more danger right now than you can imagine."

Baghra went silent at that, her mouth pressed in a hard line.

The Darkling turned back to Alina. "You think I'm doing this for myself. I'm not. I'm doing what I have to for Ravka's sake and for its people's sake. I'm doing it because we need peace--peace from a hundred years of war. Peace from a war that has never shown any signs of stopping."

"At what cost? And what happens when the fighting stops?" Alina asked.

"When the fighting stops...and it _will_ stop...mothers and fathers will stop sending their children to the front to die, trade will resume and the working people will prosper." One side of his mouth turned up but it held not a hint of humor. "And the Grisha will stop being the pawns of the state." 

"You really think the king and his council will allow you to end the wars and bring about this peace and plenty you're talking about?"

"They won't have a choice. And even if they did, you've seen that the Tsar is not fit to be Ravka's king. You have no idea of the corruption staining this government, Alina."

"So you would rule," Alina said. It wasn't a question.

"Someone has to lead the people," the Darkling said quietly. "I have the experience of centuries behind me. I have served and toppled kings for nearly five hundred years. If anyone can bring Ravka into a bright new era, it will be me and mine."

"Whether anyone wants it or not."

The Darkling stepped around the table. "And what of you, Alina? What do you want? You have friends in the First Army. I seem to remember a tracker who was close to you. Do you really want him to waste his life patrolling the border until a Fjerdan or a Shu Han soldier puts a knife in him? Or your friends at the Little Palace. They will be out in the field in mere months. Once the Winter Fête is over, we all go back to being the disposable tools we've always been."

Alina shook her head. "You're crazy."

"I'm not crazy. I've seen the past--hundreds of years of it--and I can see the future we need." He paused. "I'm asking you to trust me."

They were the same words he had used on her a few months earlier. When she'd first learned of his desire to give her an amplifier. Before she had learned of the horrors he'd inflicted on the very people he claimed he wanted to save. 

"I'll never trust you. Never. You've only convinced me that you're the monster everyone in the First Army said you were."

He frowned.

Baghra cackled from her chair in the corner. "You're losing your touch, boy."

Alina could practically see the Darkling grind his teeth at her words. A muscle in his jaw twitched. It was remarkable how much he let the old woman get under his skin.

"I wish I could say I didn't expect this kind of treachery from you, old woman," he practically hissed the last words. There was no compassion in his voice, let alone any love for her. "Lest you forget, you played just as much a role in creating the Unsea as I did. You may try to wash your hands of it, but don't think for a moment that they will ever be clean."

Baghra stared at him with a flat expression. "I've never thought that. I'm taking things into my own hands before you do something so reckless that you'll never come back from it. Reconsider what you're doing. It's not too late."

"It's far too late for me," the Darkling said, and with that he moved towards her. "And it's far too late for you."

"Wait!" Alina exclaimed. "She doesn't deserve whatever it is you're thinking of doing. She only wanted to spare me and to spare everyone that might get hurt."

The Darkling scoffed. "She doesn't care about sparing Ravka, Alina. I should know."

"Well then, she wanted to spare _you_. She loves you. 'I will not let him put himself beyond redemption.' That's what she said to me!"

"Touching words," the Darkling said quietly. After a pause, he continued, "But traitors must be dealt with."

In moments, he stood in front of Baghra, looking down at her. He raised his hands.

"No!" Alina shouted. She sprang to her feet and rushed towards them, her light flaring in her palms. 

The Darkling swung one of his hands out to face her. She came to an abrupt halt as shadows spilled out of his palm, rushing like water down to the ground and pooling around her legs and up to her waist. It felt as if an impenetrable grip held her fast. 

He turned away from her, saying, "Don't test me, Alina. Your power is no match for mine."

Alina struggled against the black bands that circled her, but her hands passed right through them. She hadn't even known it was possible for him to use his powers in this way, but the centuries must have taught him well.

She was helpless as he leaned over Baghra, placing his hands on either side of her head with his palms turned towards her face. He was too close to her. If Alina tried to attack the Darkling with her light, she was just as likely to hurt Baghra.

"I'm sorry, mother," she could hear him murmur. "But you drove me to this."

Baghra just gave him a weary look, saying, "Do it, then." 

He nodded, and Alina watched in horror as thin tendrils of inky darkness spiraled out of his fingertips. The tendrils slid over Baghra's skin like questing tree roots, moving inexorably towards her eyes before seeping into the sockets themselves. Alina held back a scream as the blackness slowly filled the older woman's eyes up to the brim until the orbs were as black as night.

After a moment, the Darkling stepped back.

Baghra's lips parted, and she stared blindly into the room. Alina wondered if it was her imagination that a single tear tracked its way down the older woman's lined cheek.

Alina gave a muffled sob.

The Darkling turned towards the sound, and she shrank back from him. With a wave of his hand, the bonds around her legs evaporated like smoke. She took a few paces backward, her heart beating fast at the display of his power and the thought of what he could do to her in turn.

"What have you done?" Alina asked, putting her hands to her mouth.

"What I've always done. I've done exactly what I had to do. When you've lived a few more centuries you'll see the practicality of that...And that there are worse things than death for your enemies. Now," he said, pushing back a stray lock of hair out of his face, "what am I going to do with you?"

Alina stood her ground this time. "You'll have to kill me. Because I won't help you."

"You will. Once you've had time to think it over, you will. You're just like me, Alina. You'll come to the same conclusions." 

"Never. And I'll never keep quiet about any of this. I'll tell everyone what you plan to do."

He looked her straight in the eyes. "If you do that, Alina, I will kill everyone you love or have ever held dear."

Alina thought of Mal, of Genya, even of Botkin and Ana Kuya. 

She fell silent.

"I will stop you," she said finally, enunciating each word. "With my last breath, if that's what it takes. I will stop you."

"No," he said with a small smile. "You won't."

He opened the door and spoke softly to the guards, who entered and took Baghra by the arms without a word. A man she didn't recognize stepped forward and raised his hands. To Alina's shock, she could feel her heart beginning to slow down, its stuttering thump sounding sluggish in her ears. The Heartrender seemed immune to the panic in her eyes. She began to choke out the words, "The Darkling..." but the thought and the words slipped away from her as she felt pulled under by a wave of tiredness. She only had time for one final gasp before she sank for the second time that night into the vast darkness of sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kind words and thumbs-ups! I appreciate the encouragement :)

Alina was as angry as a spitting cat when she woke in her own room the next morning. She had to assume it was the next morning, but it was impossible to know if one of the Darkling's Heartrenders had been slowing her pulse and keeping her in a deathlike state for days or more. She wouldn't have put it past him.

She wouldn't put anything past him.

Sometime in the night, her heavy fur blankets had nearly been pushed off the bed and onto the floor. Only a silk sheet covered her now, and Alina shivered a little under the sleek material. Once, her luxurious, canopied bed had filled her with happiness and she would wake up marveling at the twist of fate that had brought her to Os Alta. Now the golden hangings felt claustrophobic. Instead of retrieving the blankets and turning over to go back to sleep, as she would normally have done, she gathered her courage and sat up. Pushing the hangings wide open, Alina looked out into the room wondering who or what she would find. 

It was empty.

Someone had pulled back the matching gold curtains to let the pale winter sunlight in, and a servant had already laid a fire in the lovely tiled grate. It was as if nothing had changed...As if she'd never tried to leave and had never been stopped by the Darkling and his men. She had a feeling that nothing was further from the truth.

Intent on finding out if her fears were accurate, Alina swung her legs over the side of the bed and felt her feet make contact with the cold floor. The temperature in the room was low enough that she hurried to the hearth, curling her toes in helpless pleasure as she stood atop the slate tiles that absorbed the heat from the fire. 

She glanced down at herself and saw that at some point she had been garbed in one of her soft, white nightgowns. How had her unconscious state been explained away? she wondered. Likely, the servants knew better than to question any of the goings-on related to the Darkling and his Grisha. Odds were that they just followed orders for their own good.

The gentle sound of running water pulled her from her thoughts. It came from the bathroom next door, and Alina hesitated only a moment before moving toward the chamber to investigate.

Inside the entry to the bathroom, she saw a young woman wearing the simple charcoal dress of a palace servant turning off the tap that jutted from the wall above the copper bathtub. She looked up and started in surprise at seeing Alina in the doorway. Without a word, the girl bobbed a curtsy then hurriedly left the room.

It was hard to tell if the servant was shy and reserved like most of the others were around Grisha, or if they were under orders not to talk to her. Alina suspected the latter. So there would be no help from that quarter. She sighed. 

The bronze tiles winking in the lantern light and the elaborate mosaic of shells on the wall beside the tub were just as pleasing to the eye as ever, but it was hard not to feel bitter as she looked at the opulent surroundings. She had traded her freedom for comfort, and she had done it with a smile in her heart when she had thought the Darkling hung the moon. He'd created a gilded cage for her, and she'd stepped right into it. Now she was paying for her ignorance in regards to his true motives.

Abandoning the steamy bathroom, Alina made her way back towards the bedroom and the door that separated her from the outside world. Hoping that it wouldn't be locked, she breathed a small sigh of relief when the handle turned easily at her touch. 

That relief was short-lived as she opened it enough to peer outside and saw the back of an _oprichnik_ standing before the entrance. He had a rifle slung across his back, and she eased the door shut again on seeing him. If there was one soldier, then there were bound to be more within earshot. 

What had she been expecting? she thought darkly. That the Darkling would just let her walk out of the palace and away from the capital? Despite knowing that it wouldn't be easy to make an escape, she felt her heart fall at the confirmation that she was most definitely a prisoner. 

From the brief glance she'd managed to get around the guard's body and from the silence of the hallway, it seemed that the entire floor had been evacuated--All except one other door that had a guard stationed in front of it. Alina assumed it must be Baghra confined in her own prison. 

If only there was a way to contact her. 

Escape seemed infinitely more likely if it was the two of them against the Darkling's forces, especially with the older woman's familiarity with the Little Palace. She had a feeling that even with the loss of Baghra's sight, Alina's former teacher would be plotting a way to stop her son from putting his plans into action.

There had to be a way to foil those plans. She had sworn to do it, and she fully intended to follow through with her declaration. 

She paced around the chamber. She had always loved the location of her room, except for the stairs. It kept her a small distance away from the other Grisha and was a clear mark of the Darkling's favor. Now, she realized how isolated she would be from the rest of the Little Palace, having no way to make contact with the outside world.

For the moment, she was at a loss as to what to do. Wanting to feel in control of some aspect of her existence, she entered the steam-filled bathroom and pulled her nightgown over her head before climbing into the large tub. She sank up to her neck in the blissfully hot water and began to wash off the previous day's exertions. By the time her toes had turned to prunes, she had run through several versions of what her next move might be.

Her mirrored gloves were probably long gone. It was unlikely that the Darkling would allow her to have a weapon such as those at her disposal. She would just have to see what she could use to her advantage instead. It wasn't as if she was defenseless, after all. Between Baghra and Botkin, she had never felt so sure of her physical abilities.

Climbing out of the tub, Alina wrapped herself in a towel and stalked to the bedroom to change into her _kefta_. She wanted to be able to escape at any moment, and wearing the coat would go a long way towards helping her blend in with the other Grisha roaming the halls below.

She studied the ornate screen behind which she was in the habit of dressing. Between the ebony wood and the mother-of-pearl stars that decorated the screen's black background, she recognized the design as a twin to the night sky worked in obsidian and pearl on the ceiling of the Darkling's bedchamber. Her mouth tightened at the thought that she couldn't get away from his influence even in her own room. Reminders of his influence were everywhere. 

She noticed that a breakfast tray now sat on the dressing table. One of the servants must have snuck in to deliver it as she bathed. Once Alina had changed into her clothes, she sat down to eat the buttery rolls and sweet porridge set before her. Starving herself wouldn't do her or anyone else any good, she thought. And at least it wasn't rye bread and herring.

Alina scanned the table with its carvings of birds and deer. The only objects on its surface were a comb and a brush, a pen and ink. But who could she write to even if she could somehow convince a servant--or even less likely, a guard--to smuggle a letter out of the Little Palace. 

Thinking of the outside world, she felt her hopes rise as she stood and tested the latch of the large window across from her bed to see if it would open. Those hopes were dashed when she realized that a Fabrikator had sealed the windows shut. 

It seemed the Darkling had thought of everything to keep her trapped.

Alina gazed across the wooded grounds made visible through the impenetrable glass, watching a few people who walked around the edge of the small lake. Most of her fellow Grisha were probably still in bed after the late-night excitement of the Winter Fête. How long would it be before her friends noticed she was gone? The Darkling probably had an excuse at the ready if anyone did ask after her.

As if thinking of her friends had conjured one of them, a knock sounded at the door. Genya entered, and Alina felt a thrill of relief to see an ally after all that had happened.

"Genya!" she exclaimed.

Genya gave her a small smile, but she stood before the closed door and looked as awkward as Alina had ever seen her. 

"Alina," she replied.

"You've got to help me," Alina began, only to trail off as she realized the Tailor would never have made it past the guards if she weren't given clearance by the Darkling.

A sickening sensation roiled in the pit of her stomach.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"I'm here to help," Genya said simply, spreading her hands in front of her.

"If you want to help me, then get me out of here." Alina replied, watching her friend's face closely.

"I can't do that. You know I can't do that."

"Because you work for the Darkling," Alina stated flatly.

"Because I work for the Darkling," Genya confirmed.

"For how long?"

"Alina..."

"How long, Genya?"

"From the beginning," she said simply. "Ever since I was brought to Os Alta as a child."

Alina went cold at the thought. He'd used her like he'd planned to use Alina herself, and Genya knew it. She admitted it. Yet she still followed him.

"You can't know what he plans to do. Tell me you don't know."

"Alina. You don't understand..."

Alina resisted the urge to throw the ink pot sitting next to her at Genya's head. "Everyone keeps saying that. The Darkling...you...But I understand perfectly well what's at stake and what I have to do."

"But you don't have to do anything," the Tailor insisted. "All you have to do is use your power to help save Ravka."

Alina snorted. "So you're here to convince me to go along with what he wants. Do you even know what he is? He's the Black Heretic, for Saints' sake!"

Genya stood silent for a moment. 

Then she sighed. "I knew he was more than he let on. I felt it. We all can feel it, really. We just don't want to think about what his power might mean. I believe you that he is who you say he is," she said. "But it doesn't change anything."

"He's going to expand the Fold, Genya. People are going to die."

"People are dying every day, Alina. So many people. But you can help change that."

"I won't. Not ever."

Genya gave a small smile. "Then I can't help you." 

"I thought you were my friend," Alina spat, glaring at the woman.

"I _am_ your friend," Genya insisted softly. "I was told to seem like your ally so that I could gain your confidence, but that only lasted for so long. Believe me, it's very hard not to like you for your own sake."

"Thanks," Alina said, and she didn't try to disguise the bitterness in her voice.

"I'm sorry. I really am," Genya trailed off.

"If you're not going to help me, you may as well leave."

Her friend's eyes were filled with regret. "If that's what you really want."

"What I want is to get away from here. You have to help me, Genya!" she tried once more. 

Genya ignored Alina's plea, saying, "I'll come back later. Think about what I said." She turned to go, but then Genya looked back over her shoulder, saying, "You can't stand against him, Alina. None of us can."

Alina gave a short laugh. "I can. Now go away. Please." 

Genya looked sad, but merely said once more, "I'll be back. I promise."

Alina glared at her. 

Then the Tailor walked out the door, and Alina was alone once more.

She had never felt so abandoned. There were only so many people that she was close to. Genya had seemed like her greatest ally--even her best friend--since Alina and Mal had their falling out. 

She picked up the brush sitting on the table and began to angrily comb her hair, pulling it over her shoulder and ruthlessly attacking the tangles in her honey-brown tresses.

Hearing the door open again, Alina set down the brush. Without looking up, she said, "I don't think there's anything more to say, Genya. If you won't help me, I'd rather be alone."

Silence greeted her pronouncement. She looked up into the mirror above the table to find the Darkling reflected in its surface. She surpressed the urge to jump at the sight of him.

He stood in front of the door, and he didn't say a word as he watched her. She could see his eyes following the line of her neck where she'd bared it.

Alina suppressed a shiver at the look on his face. He still affected her in a way she didn't understand. In a way she tried not to understand. 

As if he could sense her inner conflict, he crossed the room slowly until he stood behind her.

"You look well," he said finally.

"No thanks to you," Alina snapped. She glared at him in the mirror. "You can't keep me here."

"As I've said before, I'll do whatever I have to do."

She didn't know what to say to that.

As if he couldn't help himself, the Darkling slowly lifted his hand and touched the bare skin at the nape of her neck with a light brush of his fingertips.

The gesture reminded her of the first time he'd touched her there as they rode their horses towards the capital, and that feeling of surety filled her as it always did. However, this time she was so ill at ease that she didn't lose herself in it.

"What do you want?" she asked, her gaze hard.

"I've already told you what I want."

"And I've already told you I won't be helping you murder anyone."

"Perhaps you can change my mind, then," he murmured. "If you can think of another solution, I'm all ears." 

His cool fingertips began to stroke her neck. "I can be merciful if I have a reason to be."

The seductive gesture nearly made her melt. But she held firm against him. "Like you were with your own mother?" 

He dropped his hand, his grey eyes flashing. "There's only so far I'm willing to go, Alina. She knew what she was doing when she turned against me." He paused. "I can't afford to be weak. Even when it comes to those I hold dear."

"'Wanting makes us weak?'" she quoted.

He tilted his head to regard her. "Yes. It's something I've learned from a long lifetime of experience. You'll understand that in time."

"Don't count on it."

"So sure," he said. For a fleeting moment, the veil over his true self lifted, and she saw the yawning weight of centuries in his eyes.

"You can't keep me locked up forever. I said I'll stop you, and I will." 

"I think you'll find that going against me is a very bad idea, Alina."

"Is that a threat?"

"If you like."

"Go to hell," Alina shot back.

"What do you know of hell?" he asked, looking at her sharply. "You know nothing of what I've endured or what our people have endured."

"I've seen the Fold," she snapped. "And that nightmare is on your head. I refuse to let it be on mine."

"We'll see," was all he said before turning and walking away. The door clicked softly behind him.

Alina immediately rested her elbows on the table and put her face in her hands. She had been able to hold her own in their first skirmish. The idea didn't comfort her, though, and she blew out a long breath. How much longer would he be content with a verbal battle of wills? she wondered. She had no illusions about whether or not he would leverage those she cared about against her. If it came down to saving Mal and everyone else she'd grown close to--even Genya, who she was furious with at the moment--what would she do? Would she cave to his will in the end to save them or would she hold fast to her ideals and be left with nothing and nobody throughout the years stretching before her. 

Eternity was a very long time, as the Darkling seemed fond of reminding her. Perhaps she'd grow as cold and calculating as he was without friends to tether her to her humanity. Alina shook her head at the thought and lifted her head, staring into the mirror.

"You can do this," she told herself. "He doesn't own you. Not unless you let him."

She'd wanted to belong to him once. And maybe there was a part of her that would always want that approval and sense of belonging he could give her. But those things weren't worth the price of her soul. Her First Army comrades believed the Darkling didn't have a soul. Baghra had believed he did, though, and Alina believed it too. She wanted to think that there was something worth saving in him--a spark of goodness--if only to believe that she herself could hold onto a semblance of that quality in the long years to come.

There had to be a way to convince him to change course. She wouldn't rest until she found the right words or the right moment to show him he didn't have to be the villain everyone thought he was. And if she couldn't stop him, she would make sure she died trying.

And if she went down, she would take him down with her.


	4. Chapter 4

Alina spent three full days cooped up in her room after her encounter with the Darkling. She became intimately familiar with the path between the door and her window since she paced back and forth across the short distance at least fifty times a day.

She felt like she would go mad within that brief time. There was nothing to distract her from her worries, and thoughts of how the Darkling and his allies were moving forward with their plans constantly preyed on her mind. She honed the words she would fling at him into sharp barbs…Not that shouting at him or his guards would sway anyone to her cause, but it would feel so good to let loose with some of her fear and frustration.

Alina honed her physical techniques as well as her verbal ones, focusing on her power and experimenting with how she could better manipulate her light. There was no use in lamenting the loss of her mirrored gloves. She would just have to learn to attack her opponents without them. From brilliant strobes of light to focused beams, she tried to think of new ways to blind her foes.

More than anything, she tried to recreate the web of shadows the Darkling had cast around her body. Those dark bands had restrained her completely on the night she'd tried to escape him. He was quick to point out how much they were alike, and perhaps there was something similar to that technique which she would be able to use for her own ends. 

Nobody came near enough to the windows for her to bang on them and try to draw attention to her plight. The guards stationed outside her door were immune to any attempts to draw them into conversation. The one time she'd tried, the young man had taken his rifle from behind his back and pointed it at her without saying a word, while the guard outside Baghra's room likewise jerked to attention and reached for his own rifle. Alina had raised her hands in surrender and edged back behind her door, shutting it then slumping to the floor to rest her back against it.

The servants were no help, either. They snuck in while Alina slept in order to lay the fire and leave her a breakfast tray. Those who came to bring her lunch and dinner scurried away without making eye-contact.

She couldn't blame them. Alina remembered what it was like to be an everyday person marveling at Grisha power while simultaneously being frightened of it. Who knew what they'd been threatened with in order to secure their compliance. 

Genya returned on the first day. "I came to see how you're faring," she said brightly, immune to Alina's obvious anger.

"Why are you the only Grisha I've seen besides the Darkling?" Alina demanded

"Everyone else thinks you're ill. A rumor spread throughout the palace that you are plagued with a mysterious illness similar to what ailed you when you first arrived. Only it's much worse this time. Those staying on your floor were more than happy to evacuate rather than risk contracting a disease created by the Fjerdans or the Shu."

"That's not going to work forever," Alina retorted.

Genya shrugged. "It will work as long as it needs to."

"That excuse won't explain why Baghra is missing. Someone's going to come looking for her." 

"Don't count on it." A small smile lifted the corners of Genya's mouth "I can't say any of us are sorry to see that hag gone. She made too many people’s lives miserable to expect any concern from her students."

As their stilted conversation wound down, Genya straightened. "The Darkling wanted me to deliver a message to you."

"Whatever he has to say, he can say it to my face," Alina declared.

Genya ignored the bravado. "Here," she said, handing over a small envelope. Under Genya's watchful gaze, Alina opened the envelope to find a crisp note adorned with curling script that read: "I won't wait forever. Don't forget what I’m willing to do.”

Alina felt chilled to her marrow. Whatever he was planning, it wouldn't be long until her friends were in danger. Did Genya know Alina counted her amongst those friends? She wondered if the Darkling would even hesitate before killing the beautiful Tailor if he thought it would sway Alina to his cause.

"Whatever he wants, Alina, you need to give it to him," Genya murmured as she made her way to the door before closing it softly behind her.

Alina contemplated her situation for the hundredth time. She had to act. It made no sense to wait around on the off-chance that Mal would come back and wonder where she was or to rely on the even longer shot that Baghra would escape and somehow find her. She felt as ready as she would ever be, and she refused to keep sitting around waiting to see what the Darkling had in store for her. Whenever an opportunity appeared for her to fight him, she would take it.

Her chance arrived later that night.

Sometime after midnight, a bang sounded through the still night air. Alina jerked upright in her bed at the sound. She was already clothed in tight-fitting pants and a tunic, prepared to seize any opportunity to escape. Shrugging on her _kefta_ that hung on a hook behind the dressing screen, she crept to the door and opened it a crack to peer out.

The lamps attached to the wall in brackets were burning low, but she could still make out through the dim light that the door to Baghra's room stood wide open.

More importantly, the guard usually stationed at Alina's door was no longer there. He had rushed to join his fellow _oprichnik_ in investigating whatever was happening inside Baghra's rooms. As Alina watched, the two men pointed their rifles through the door's entrance and into the darkness within. 

Suddenly, a tidal wave of shadows crashed outwards, enveloping the two men. The thought flew across Alina's mind that Baghra must have been the one to teach the Darkling how to make shadows take both solid and insubstantial forms. Apparently, she had been biding her time to lull her guards into complacence. I should have tried that strategy, Alina thought.

The shadows finally receded enough for Baghra to appear in the hallway. Alina could see that the older woman carried a long walking stick. Rather than using it as a cane, though, she wielded the stick of wood like a scythe. Ducking low to the ground, she swung the stick through the air, slamming it into the legs of Alina's guard. The gesture neatly swept him off his feet. The second guard gave a hoarse shout, swinging his rifle towards Baghra's face, but the noise gave away his position. In the next moment, a crack sounded in the air, and the guard grabbed his face as blood gushed from a gash on his forehead.

"Baghra!" Alina hissed, leaving her room and entering the corridor. She didn't want to alert any other nearby _oprichniki_ to what was taking place. The guards were probably on their way anyway, though, if they'd heard the commotion as Alina had.

Baghra turned towards the sound of Alina's voice. Her eyes resembled black pits in the darkness, but Alina could see that they narrowed at the sound of her voice. "Get out of here, girl," the older woman exclaimed. "How many times do I have to say it?"

Alina hesitated. "I won't leave without you."

Baghra stamped her foot. "You saw where that led us last time. I'll only slow you down." 

Alina didn't want to admit it, but her teacher had a point. With one last glance, Alina whispered, "I'll come back for you."

"Yes, yes," Baghra said, shooing her with one hand as the other hand gripped the walking stick tight. "Go, I said!" She turned and began to swing her stick at the guards who had slowly begun to recover.

Alina turned, intending to set off down the hall away from Baghra. But after a moment's thought, she flung the door to her room back open instead. Hefting the sturdy chair that sat next to the dressing table with her hands, she swung it with a loud crack against the mirror. Working quickly, she grabbed a scarf from an open drawer and wrapped it around the base of a large, wickedly sharp piece of glass that fell from the mirror's frame. Better to make some more noise and have a weapon at hand than to head off blindly into the dark, she thought.

She rushed back out of the room and down the nearest corridor that twisted and turned. Within moments, she could hear the sound of running footsteps close by, and she ducked into an unlocked door on her right. Shutting it quickly behind her, she realized she was in one of the abandoned rooms vacated by another Grisha.

A gunshot went off, and Alina jumped, her heart freezing at the thought of Baghra bleeding out on the floor of that darkened hallway. But the sound of shouts and yelps echoed in her ears the next moment. Baghra must have been fighting for her life. Opening the door, Alina could see a flood of darkness speeding like a rushing wave down the hall. It must have blinded the guards, and it was about to blind Alina as well. Turning back down the hallway, she ran as quickly as her heavy _kefta_ would allow. The floor in front of her fell away into a staircase, and she flew down the steps as shadows eddied around her. 

Leaving the stairs, she dashed through one of the maze-like corridors that led to the domed hall where the Grisha gathered for their communal meals. She'd hoped to find the servants' stairs to be able to travel through the palace unseen, but if there was a door, it was carved to fit so snugly into the wall that she couldn't see it. The domed hall seemed to be the only option available to her. 

As she ran, doors began to open, and a few Grisha thrust their heads into the hall as cries of "What's going on?" "Was that a gunshot?!" "Are we under attack?" rang through the air. Alina ignored the voices and sped down the corridor towards a second set of stairs. 

On reaching the bottom, she could see the domed hall stretching before her. She allowed herself to feel a sliver of hope that she might just be able to run from the Little Palace through the trees and across the lawns to the Grand Palace. The king and his advisors would be eager to hear of the Darkling's treachery, and she didn't think he would ignore a request for an audience from the Sun Summoner, even if she arrived in the middle of the night.

As she reached the center of the room, though, the familiar cracking sound of hands striking together resounded through the air. Alina jerked her head to the left to track the noise. A wall of unfurling darkness greeted her.

Her sliver of hope disappeared. There was no chance that it was Baghra. It could only be the Darkling. 

He had found her already. _How_ had he found her already, her panicked brain screamed. 

The wall of darkness slammed into her, assaulting her senses and blacking out her vision. She thought she could hear footsteps in the distance coming towards her slowly and steadily--an inexorable pace that sent a wave of foreboding through her.

Desperate to keep the Darkling at bay, she thought of what Baghra had taught her on one of their last days together before she'd known the truth about the older woman's son. She steeled herself to resist. If it came down to a final encounter between them, then she would see it through. She refused to live as a prisoner or a slave to his will.

Drawing upon that intense desire for her life and her freedom, Alina held one hand out in front of her. Light pulsed from her fingertips rather than shooting from her palm in a wide beam. The deceptively delicate golden sheen surrounded her body, keeping the Darkling's shadows at bay. Inky tendrils pushed at her bubble of light, testing it for cracks. She'd practiced and practiced while locked in her room, though, and there was no weakness to be found. 

"Impressive." The Darkling's voice rang through the hall. It sounded as if it was coming towards her from all directions at once, the sound ricocheting within the darkness on his command. Her glowing sphere held strong, and she felt that conviction fill her to do whatever had to be done to stop him. 

"I won't let you win," she exclaimed.

"I've already won," the voice said with maddening surety.

She almost faltered at that. How could she hold out? He'd been ahead of her at every turn. It felt impossible to stand against him.

She had to defy him, though. For her friends' sake. For Os Alta's and the world's sake. 

The Darkling's outline appeared at the edges of the light she stubbornly maintained. He looked at the pulsing brightness.

"Very pretty," he said, giving her a mocking smile. "But a lantern needs fuel to push away the darkness. You don't have the strength to hold out against my power. Not yet."

"Maybe not," she said as she pushed her other hand into the pocket of her _kefta_ and pulled out the jagged shard of glass. “But I’m strong enough for this.”

"Would you kill me then, Alina?"

"If I have to." There was a slight tremble in her voice that she tried her best to vanquish. If she were to defeat the Darkling, she would have to be prepared to be as ruthless as he was.

Instead of backing away from her weapon, he stepped even closer. He reached out, running his fingers over the golden cocoon that flared out around her. She could feel an echo of the gesture within her own body, as if he stroked the bare skin of her torso. She swallowed and held firm to her concentration.

"I don't think you are capable of murder, Alina."

"You don't know what I'm capable of."

"That's true. But I'm willing to take my chances." He began to push his fingers through the barrier of her light.

In response, Alina pulled the glass shard up to her own throat.

He stopped abruptly.

"I may not be a murderer, but I'm perfectly willing to destroy myself if it means destroying you."

"Don't be foolish," he said harshly. "This isn't a game." But he leaned back from her all the same.

"You're right. It's not a game. Although I think you’d love to keep moving me around the board like a pawn."

"You're not a pawn, Alina. You're a queen." He cocked his head to the side as he looked at her, considering. "But sometimes we must sacrifice the queen to finish the game."

With that, he formed a fist, drawing his power into a mass of shadows as if it were a battering ram. 

Although she tried her best to bring the shard higher--to slash her own throat before he could come into contact with her--she couldn't bring herself to take that final step.

Sensing her hesitation, the Darkling thrust his fist and its surrounding shadows straight through her defensive sphere, shattering it.

As the blackness rushed in, Alina closed her eyes, sucked in a breath, and stabbed upwards. Before the jagged edge connected with her flesh, a hand gripped her forearm. It squeezed a place on her wrist that made pain shoot through her arm. Her eyes flew open, and she dropped the glass shard. 

As it clattered to the ground, the blackness surrounding her seeped away into the corners of the room, and Alina was face to face with the Darkling. He eased his grip on her wrist, letting her arm go. She let the limb fall limply to her side as despair filled her. 

"Just kill me and be done with it," she said wearily. "If you don't, I swear I'll find a way to do it myself." 

His quartz eyes were cool and calm. "Somehow I doubt that. Your will to live is as strong as mine."

"Will I never be free of you?"

His angelic face was impassive. "Never."

At that moment, Alina resisted the urge to fling herself bodily at him. To kick, to punch, to bite. On the heels of a feeling that was dangerously close to hate, she felt a sense of numbness overtake her.

He always seemed to be one step ahead of her. She shook her head, "How do you do it? How do you know what I'm going to do before I even know it?"

"We're connected, Alina," he said quietly. "Like calls to like." Then a corner of his mouth lifted up in a small, humorless smile. "And I've had centuries of experience to draw upon."

Alina felt hot tears of frustration mark a slow course down her face. 

The Darkling's hand twitched, as if he would reach out and wipe away her tears. But he didn't.

The silence between them stretched.

Finally, he said simply, "I need you, Alina."

She gave a harsh laugh. "Oh, you've made that perfectly clear."

"You misunderstand me," he said, and this time he did lift his hand to trace one of the tears running down her cheek. When he spoke, there was an edge to his voice. "I need you far more than I should allow myself to. We are alone in this world together, Alina Starkov. We are unique. And when Os Alta's walls are crumbling and all those you love have turned to dust, you will come to see that you need me just as much as I need you." 

Saints, Alina thought, as she pictured the long years of her life stretching before her, alone with this man.

A fleeting thought passed through her mind. Maybe she couldn't bring herself to take her own life, but if she could somehow convince the Darkling to change course and abandon his mad obsession...then maybe all would not be lost. It would be as dangerous as walking a tightrope, but if she didn't try to leverage the feelings he claimed to have for her, there would be no hope for any of them. Alina drew in a breath and exhaled, slowing her heart. 

She held out her hand. "You say you need me. That we were meant to be together. Then show me. Show me what that means."


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not as much of the Darkling in this one, alas, but things are going to pick up speed with him very soon. Thanks for reading!

The Darkling stared at her hand. Then, as if he was trying not to scare a skittish colt, he reached out slowly and took it in his own.

They stood that way for a long moment as he watched her face. Alina contemplated his pale beauty in turn. She wondered if she would ever truly understand him, let alone know him. Did he ever have genuine emotions, or was it all--every look, every gesture--a carefully crafted response to get what he wanted? 

There was no way to be sure.

But if she was going to gain his trust, she would have to put a measure of trust in him. Perhaps she was being a fool, but she had to build her hope for her future plans on the idea that there was something approximating a good man beneath the monstrous greed for power that seemed to drive him.

Guards filled the room as Alina and the Darkling stood in place. The _oprichniki_ waited at the edges of the walls for the Darkling's next order. Alina was just as curious what that order would be.

Would he play the gentleman and walk her to her room, maintaining the fragile peace between them? Or would he call his men forward to haul her away? All of her hopes seemed to rest on this moment as he stood there evaluating her.

He was ancient and unbelievably crafty. All the power in the world seemed to lie within him, and he knew it. 

The Darkling gave a sigh, letting go of her hand. He reached up to cup her chin. "What am I going to do with you? I can't leave you to your own devices, and I can't keep you locked in a tower. You make things very complicated, Alina."

She gave him a faint smile. She could feel herself starting to tremble despite herself as the adrenaline from their encounter began to leave her body. 

"Call a servant. Tell them to bring some brandy," The Darkling ordered.

One of the nameless guards retreated into the hallway. When he returned, he brought a young blonde woman with him. She carried a bottle of brandy and a few half-full glasses on a tray. Looking timid, she held the tray in front of the Darkling, who took a glass and handed the other to Alina. 

"Drink it," he ordered. Based on her experience with _kvass_, Alina wasn't looking forward to the experience, but she raised her glass and took a gulp of the liquid anyway.

She immediately began to cough and splutter as it burned its way down her throat. 

"That's terrible," she finally choked out.

The Darkling looked impassive in the face of her discomfort. "It will take the edge off," he said as he took a long sip. Practical as ever, Alina thought bitterly as she tried to rid her mouth of the taste.

Turning his attention on the servant, the Darkling asked in a mild tone, "And what is your name?"

The girl looked startled at his notice of her, then terrified, but she answered in a small voice "Katya..._moi soverenyi_"

Alina was shocked. She'd never seen Grisha interact with the servants beyond giving them simple orders, let alone the Darkling. The girl held herself very still as if she were a deer caught in the sights of a hunter.

"Katya. Do you know who this is?" he asked, indicating Alina with his glass.

Katya nodded. "The Sun Summoner," she whispered, giving Alina an awed look. 

"Indeed. And from now on, you're going to be her personal maid."

Katya looked as surprised as Alina felt at this whole interaction.

The Darkling turned to Alina. "Alina, this is Katya, your new maid. It's an honor for her to serve you. And in return for serving you, you're going to do something for her." He leaned closer to Alina as if to confide in her and spoke in a quiet and conversational tone.

"You're going to stay here in the Little Palace. You're not going to run. You're not going to do anything that might make me question your loyalties. Because if you do any of those things, I'm going to kill her and her entire family. Slowly. Painfully. I'll make sure that it will take days for her to die."

Katya's eyes grew wide in terror, and Alina felt the blood drain from her face.

"Nod, so I know we understand each other."

Alina gritted her teeth and nodded her head.

"Good." 

The Darkling set his glass back down on Katya's tray. She looked like she was about to drop it, her hands were shaking so hard. 

He gave Alina one last look before saying, "Off you go, then." A small smirk curved his lips upwards.

Alina was now rigid with anger. The bastard, Alina thought. The utter bastard. He didn't care one way or another about Katya and her family, but he knew Alina would.

There was nothing to do but to go back to her rooms. She glared at him and then stalked towards the door that would lead towards her chambers. 

Katya followed her, as did two of the _oprichniki_. When they reached the bedroom door, Katya jumped forward to open it.

Alina stepped inside and beckoned for Katya to come in as well. The girl did as she was bid, standing awkwardly in the corner next to the dressing screen.

Alina sat down on the bed, her head swimming. "Please sit," she said, pointing at the chair in front of the dressing table.

Katya walked to the chair slowly and perched on the edge of it.

Alina had no idea what to say to the girl.

"I'm sorry," she said finally.

Katya just looked at her hands twisted in the folds of her skirt.

"It's not your fault, _moya ledi_," she said in a whisper.

Alina have a short laugh. "Actually, it _is_ my fault. You wouldn't be in this situation if I hadn't been caught."

Katya looked up sharply at that. "You were running away?"

"Before Alina could answer, Katya looked back down at her hands, somehow looking more distressed than before. "Sorry, my lady, I'm not used to talking to...your people."

"My people. You mean Grisha?"

Katya nodded.

"Where are you from?" Alina asked, not being able to place her accent although it was Ravkan.

"Ulensk."

"That's to the north. Near the edge of the Fold, isn't it?" 

Katya nodded.

Alina knew exactly where it was from her mapmaking days, but she hoped Katya would feel more at ease if she got the girl talking.

"How did you come to work here?"

"My brother got me a job here at the Little Palace."

"Is he a servant, too?"

"No," she shook her head, her blue eyes finally meeting Alina's. "He's an _oprichnik_." There was a note of pride in her voice, but then her eyes fell back to her hands.

An _oprichnik_. Interesting. Alina decided to file that information away for later.

Katya had begun to look around her surreptitiously. She seemed fascinated with the luxurious surroundings.

"How long have you been working at the Little Palace? I've never seen you before." Not that Alina would have recognized her anyway. She felt a small flush of embarrassment fill her cheeks as she realized she knew absolutely nothing about anyone who worked in either of the palaces. That seemed wrong, somehow. Coming from the orphanage and having served in the First Army, she'd known many people of lower birth. _She_ was of low birth, for Saints' sake. It wasn't until she'd come to Os Alta that she'd stopped taking notice of people who weren't Grisha or courtiers. That realization made her cringe.

"I've only worked here a month," Katya was saying. "My brother sent for me and my little brother when our parents died."

So Katya was an orphan, too. And far from home. And completely overwhelmed by her surroundings.

Alina suddenly wished they'd met sooner. It would have been nice to know that not everyone knew what they were doing when it came to the Little Palace.

"Can I do anything for you, my lady? Shall I brush your hair?" 

Alina realized Katya had asked her the question for a second time. She had been so caught up in her thoughts that she hadn't really heard what the other girl was saying.

"That would be lovely. But please call me Alina."

Katya looked aghast at that suggestion. "Oh, I couldn't do that!"

"Of course you can. I'd love it if you called me by my name."

The girl bit her lip. "I don't think _he_ would like it, though."

Alina realized Katya meant the Darkling, and she couldn't blame her for not wanting to anger him.

She locked gazes with the other girl. "Nobody has to know. In here, it can be just you and me. Alright?"

Katya hesitated for a long moment before finally saying, "Alright."

With a little maneuvering, Alina took over Katya's place at the dressing table, while the maid acquainted herself with the instruments on the table. She lifted the heavy, gold-backed brush and began to work the bristles through Alina's tangled hair. It was soothing, and reminded her somewhat of Ana Kuya helping her prepare for bed at Keramzin. Although, that had always been done in a brisk and abrupt fashion with enough hair-pulling to make Alina's eyes water. 

She spoke up. "I'm from Keramzin."

"Yes," Katya said simply.

"You already knew that?" Alina was a little startled. 

"Oh, we know everything about the Grisha that live in the Little Palace. Especially you. You're the Sun Summoner." Katya said it in the same awed tone she'd used before in the domed hall.

Alina grimaced. What had she expected? Of course the servants must talk about them. And especially about her if she was going to be the "savior of Ravka."

Now that very same savior could use some rescuing. But she was just going to have to rescue herself. A small voice in the back of her mind wondered briefly if she could leverage Katya's connections with the other servants and her _oprichnik_ brother to get her out of the palace. 

She immediately squashed that thought, feeling guilty that her first instinct was to put more people's lives in danger. If it looked like any of the other servants had helped her to make her escape, they would surely be accused of treason and hanged. Even if she took Katya with her, Alina couldn't live with the thought of the other people who might die.

"Are you going to be alright?" Alina asked Katya as she stood behind the ebony dressing screen and pulled on one of her white cotton nightgowns. Stepping around the corner of the screen, she saw that the maid had pulled back the covers to the bed. Alina stifled a yawn that threatened to consume her.

Katya nodded. "I'll be fine...Alina."

Alina smiled at the small victory. 

The girl frowned at the lamp set next to Alina's bed. "You're almost out of lamp oil. I'll go get more if you want to read for a while."

"Don't trouble yourself," Alina said as another yawn threatened to overtake her. "I'm too tired to read anything right now. Besides," she said as she conjured a small orb of light to rest in the center of her palm, "I'm fine as far as light is concerned."

Katya gaped at the glowing ball. 

Alina looked at her in confusion, but then realized that most of the servants probably wouldn't have seen her using her powers since she reserved them for sessions with her fellow Grisha at the lakeshore or for official demonstrations such as the one for the King and Queen at the Winter Fête.

"It won't bite," she assured the girl, who looked supremely unconvinced.

Finally, Katya took one step forward, and then another before reaching out a tremulous finger. Alina tried not to laugh as she gently poked at the orb, making it dissolve in a soft wash of light.

The maid jumped backwards, and Alina couldn't hold in a small chuckle at her wide-eyed expression.

"I won't hurt you, I promise! My power doesn't work like that. I'm not like a Heartrender, and I'm certainly not like the Darkling."

Alina had meant that to be reassuring, but Katya stilled at the mention of the man who had threatened her with murder.

"Don't worry," Alina said, feeling chagrined at having caused the girl to remember his threats. "Everything will be fine. I won't let him hurt you."

Katya didn't say anything. Then she bit her lip. "You won't run?"

It went against every one of her instincts, but Alina shook her head. "I won't run."

The maid nodded. Her expression was guarded, but Alina could see the relief in her eyes. Alina's heart broke a little at that look.

Katya stepped back, gripping the door handle with one of her hands. Her tension was still palpable, but Alina would just have to build trust with her.

She had to build trust with a lot of people, it seemed. 

"Goodnight, Alina."

"Goodnight, Katya."

After climbing into bed, Alina lay awake thinking of how complicated things had become. She punched her pillow a few times in an attempt to get comfortable, but nothing seemed to do the trick. Sleep lay just outside of her reach, no matter how exhausted she was both mentally and physically. 

Finally, she got out of bed and sat at the small dressing table. A few sheets of blank paper sat before her, and she reached out for her pen and ink. Without even thinking consciously of what she was doing, she began to write.

_Dear Mal, I don't know where you are or what you're doing, but I need your help. I'm surrounded by a hundred Grisha, and people are swarming the capital for the Fête, but I feel so alone right now. The Darkling is somehow always one step ahead of me. But I'll stop him, Mal. I promise. He might be a monster, but I can be just as much of one if that's what it takes to save Ravka. To save you. I know we didn't part on good terms and that you might hate me, but I would give anything to see your face right now. Don't give up on me, Mal. I'll never give up on you. We'll see each other again. I know it._

Alina didn't know what else to say. She certainly couldn't try to send the letter. It would inevitably end up in the Darkling's hands. And she didn't want him to have any more ammunition to hold over her than he already had. 

Writing out her thoughts had been a cathartic act, though, and she finally felt sleep creeping over her. Burning the letter seemed wrong somehow, so she resorted to one of the tricks she'd used at Keramzin when she'd been small and wanted to hide a toy or a rare treasure. She went to her wardrobe and pulled out her summer _kefta_. It would be months before anyone retrieved it from out of the back of her closet. She slipped the letter into an inside pocket and, feeling much better, went back to bed. 

Everything seemed a little more bearable now, and she drifted off to sleep, forgetting the guards, forgetting Katya's plight as well as her own, and most of all forgetting the man who haunted her dreams both waking and sleeping.


	6. Chapter 6

Days passed, and Alina began to adjust to a daily routine.

She would wake up, Katya would bring her breakfast, they would trade stories of growing up in rural Ravka, Katya would leave while Alina practiced refining her powers through lunch and up until dinner, and then she would sleep. And then it would happen all over again. The boredom when she was left alone kept Alina feeling tired, but the small routines made her feel less trapped. Her control over her power grew greater, as well, even without Baghra’s shouts and snide commentary.

She wondered how the older woman fared and if she would ever see her again. It seemed unlikely that the Darkling would allow it. He had never wanted Alina to learn to use her powers so thoroughly to begin with. The stag, which she was relieved to hear no news of, had been the real part of his end game. She shuddered to think of what would happen if it was ever captured and could only speculate as to the kind of control over her he could have with it.

The sound of raised voices travelling under her chamber door interrupted her post-lunch practicing. She couldn't make out what was being said, but Katya entered a moment later, practically slamming the door shut behind her.

Alina stared at her. "What's wrong? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," the maid said angrily, and she walked to the bed, depositing a large box on top of it. 

Without looking at Alina, she began to open the package with short, jerking motions. "I just saw my brother. Valentin. He traded shifts with one of the other guards so he could see me. All he wanted to talk about was how sorry he was--As if _he's_ the one with the death threat hanging over his head!"

Katya pulled the lid off the box. Alina could see it contained a beautiful new _kefta_ in black and gold with a rich fur lining. It was gorgeous, and was almost as beautiful as the one she had worn the night of the Fête, but Alina wondered what it meant.

Katya lifted the coat and laid it on the bed, smoothing it out. "Valentin brought this along with a message from the Darkling. He wants you to wear it and meet him in his quarters."

Alina could scarcely believe it. Would she finally be freed from the interminable time spent alone in her room? Again, she wondered what it meant and what the Darkling was playing at.

Although it infuriated her to be ordered around down to what she was supposed to be wearing, she wasn't about to miss a chance to get out of these accursed rooms. 

She took off her everyday _kefta_ and donned the beautiful garment. The fur lining felt delicious against her skin, and the fabric was soft, but thick enough to provide an extra layer of protection from the cold. Perhaps she was going to go outside, but for what purpose she couldn't say.

A knock sounded on the door, and an _oprichnik_ entered. He had blonde hair cut short in the military style all the guards wore. He nodded to Alina, saying gruffly, "I'm to escort you down to the hall."

Katya had put her hands on her hips and was glaring at the guard in an outright hostile way. Alina could suddenly see the similarities in their features.

"You must be Valentin," she said.

He nodded, obviously trying to avoid her eyes as well as Katya's.

After a moment he simply said, "If you'll come with me..." He gestured towards the door, and Alina moved to follow him. He may have been more polite than the other guards she'd encountered, but she still had the feeling he would drag her all the way to the Darkling's quarters if she resisted. 

"Be careful," Katya whispered.

"Don't worry. I won't do anything to give them an excuse to hurt you," Alina assured her.

Valentin's shoulders stiffened.

Alina didn't feel an ounce of sympathy for Katya's brother. If he wasn't willing to turn against his commander when his own sister was threatened, then she had to time for him.

Outside in the hallway, Alina could see there was no longer a guard posted outside of Baghra's room. 

"Where did they take Baghra?" she asked.

"Somewhere she won't cause trouble," Valentin replied.

Alina didn't care for that answer, but she could tell she wouldn't get anything else out of him on the matter. As they walked, she couldn't hold her irritation in and finally demanded, "How can you just ignore what he's doing to your sister? Why don't you _do_ something?"

Valentin stared straight ahead. "What would you have me do?" he asked. "If I interfere, he'll kill us both. The best thing I can do for my sister is to keep my head down and follow orders."

Alina huffed, and they continued on in silence. It may not have been the answer she wanted, but it made sense. There was only so much any of them could do in the face of the Darkling's power.

In the domed hall, the horde of Grisha seemed to be lingering over their own lunches. It felt like it had been a year since Alina had seen many of their faces. She heard a shriek spear through the air. "Alina!" 

Marie and Nadia sprang up from a nearby table of Etherealki and hurried towards her.

"Oh, Alina, I'm so glad to see you're alright." Marie gushed. "Are you feeling better? You look like you're better." 

"I know! You don't look sick at all!" Nadia exclaimed.

"Um...what?" Alina trailed off. She couldn't make sense of what they were saying.

"Your illness," Nadia said, looking Alina over from head to toe. "The one the Fjerdan ambassador gave you. We heard you almost died. Everyone was so worried." 

Marie nodded. "The Apparat kept praying for your soul. It all sounded terrible!"

Nadia broke in, "But we heard the Darkling looked for a cure day and night until he found an old Suli woman traveling through the city who knew how to break your fever."

Marie sighed. "It's so romantic. Did the Darkling give you that _kefta_?" She looked like she might swoon at the idea. "He's so...so..."

Alina resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

Before Marie could say exactly what she thought the Darkling was, Alina saw Ivan headed towards her from behind the Darkling's table. As usual, the Corporalnik had a scowl on his face. He looked like he wanted to grab her by the arm and haul her off like a dog carrying a dead bird to its master, but all he did was growl out, "He's ready for you."

Marie practically pushed Alina at Ivan, saying "We'll see you later."

As she walked behind Ivan towards the Darkling's quarters, Alina wondered what her friends and the rest of the Grisha would think if she revealed that their leader was the Black Heretic. If she told the world what he was, then surely they would rise up against him. But she couldn't be sure that anyone would believe her. They all seemed to have bought some kind of half-baked story spread, no doubt, by the Darkling. Alina remembered all the wild gossip surrounding her previous "recovery" from when she had started using her powers. 

At least this story hadn't involved her drinking his blood and an extract of diamonds. Alina shuddered at the thought.

They passed the threshold of the entrance to the Darkling's rooms, and Ivan indicated that she should wait in one of the uncomfortable-looking chairs in the receiving room. The Heartrender himself turned to the war room and left Alina alone before she even had a chance to ask if Ivan knew what the Darkling wanted. 

Alina sat waiting for what felt like forever, growing more and more nervous while her impatience grew apace. It didn't help that her backside had almost gone numb. The chairs really were as awful as they looked.

Finally, the door to the war room opened, and a stream of Grisha exited. Ivan took up the rear, and he smirked at her as if he relished her discomfort. Alina glared at him in exchange. 

The Darkling appeared a moment later. She rose to meet him, refusing to look away or to show weakness of any kind.

"Alina."

"What do you want?" she asked, and her tone was harsh.

"Only to have some time to talk with you. I thought you might enjoy a walk outdoors."

"You've kept me locked up for the past week. Of course I want to go outside," she snapped.

The Darkling smiled, as if refusing to let her anger ruffle him in the slightest. He held out an arm.

"Shall we?"

"I assume I don't have a choice."

"You're welcome to return to your room if you'd prefer," he said calmly.

Despite a wave of resentment, Alina took the arm he offered.

As they walked through the massive hall, every head turned to track their progress. She could see Marie and Nadia watching her with equal amounts of envy and rapture. The urge to tug her arm away from his rose up, but she let it go and continued to walk with him.

"Learning some restraint, I see," The Darkling spoke quietly so that only she could hear. He was so good at reading her mind.

She muttered under her breath, "If I could feed you to the volcra right now, I would."

All of the Grisha continued to stare as the Darkling chuckled. He acted as if she'd said something amusing and tightened his hold on her arm, drawing her closer. Alina realized he was making it look like they were forming an attachment.

She tried to keep her fury in check.

Leaning towards her ear, he murmured, "Your threats are truly refreshing, Alina. But you won't be rid of me that easily."

As they left the hall, she finally tried to extricate herself from his arm. The Darkling sighed and let her go. They reached the large double doors of the Little Palace's main entrance, and a guard held one of the portals open. Alina could scarcely wait to step into the outside world. 

She tipped her head up to the sky. She had never been so happy to feel the cold wind brush her cheeks or to hear the birdsong in the trees. Opening her eyes, she saw the Darkling studying her. 

An inexplicable blush colored her cheeks. "What?" she asked.

"I enjoy watching you experience the world,” he said simply. “It has been a long time since I felt things as sharply as you do."

Alina felt taken aback for a moment that he was talking so openly about how he felt. She didn't know if it was an honest admission or if he was merely playing with her as he had probably always done. But her curiosity got the better of her as they began to walk towards the lake and Baghra's hut.

She cleared her throat. "What has it been like? Living as long as you have, I mean?" 

He was quiet for a while, but when he finally answered her it was slow and measured. "I will not lie to you, Alina. It can be...difficult to be in our position. You should prepare yourself for a dark and lonely path."

He was being more forthcoming than she'd ever seen him, and she pushed forward. "Were you always like this?"

"Like what?"

"Hungry for power," she said pointedly.

The Darkling gazed straight ahead. "I've always been focused on the future of Ravka."

Alina snorted. "Somehow, I have a hard time believing that."

He shrugged. "Believe it or don't believe it, it's the truth."

She decided there was nothing to stop her from pressing him on that point. "You can't tell me that you care about your people when you're so ready to sacrifice them to your own ambition."

"People die, Alina," he said as if talking to a child. "It's what they do. On good days, you can put that fact to use and make it worthwhile."

The bleakness of his words startled her.

"You can't seriously believe that."

"You'll find out yourself soon enough. When you've watched thousands of people die of old age, or illness, or at the hands of our enemies, you start to see the larger picture more clearly. And you become willing to be the one who will do what needs to be done."

Alina huffed. "You keep saying that, but I refuse to believe that's all there is to it. I think you can leave this world a better place by showing everyone there's a different path besides the one you've always known. And I think there's a part of you that must know that. You don't have to be the villain,” she insisted. “You could be a force for good."

The Darkling gave a bitter laugh and stopped, turning to face her. "Do you think you're going to change me, Alina? That I'm some broken thing you can fix?" 

"No, of course not," she said, looking down at the frozen ground beneath her feet.

That was exactly what she'd been thinking.

He sighed, reaching out to take a lock of her hair between his fingers. "You're so young."

She batted his hand away. "Don't patronize me."

"It's the truth. You've only lived a small fraction of the lifetime you're going to experience. And at some point you're going to accept that and accept that I am the one constant you will have throughout that long, long life."

Alina frowned and looked him square in the face at those words. "If I'm going to do that, if I'm going to...coexist with you, I need to know that you're more than the Darkling. More than the monster who sacrifices everything and everyone to get what he wants. Who lies and cheats and destroys. Tell me something about yourself that's real."

She waited as he looked away, tilting his head as if he watched something in the distance that only he could see.

Finally, he parted his lips and said, "Aleksander."

"What?"

"My name. It's Aleksander." 

Alina didn't know what to say. She hadn't expected him to actually reveal anything of himself to her. 

"Thank you," was all she said in return. And after a moment, not knowing for sure why she did it, she took his hand.

Immediately, she felt the calming sense of surety, of rightness, flood through her as his fingers laced with hers.

"You don't have to do that, you know," she said quietly.

"Do what?"

"You don't have to make me feel...whatever it is that I'm feeling." She waved a hand vaguely over her body. "We could just...be."

"Ah."

She felt the sensation she associated with him begin to lessen in degrees. It felt like a wave receding from the shore until it was just the warmth of his hand captivating her senses and a tingling hint that there was an ocean of power just waiting for her on the other side. 

It was intoxicating.

Alina felt the wind shift, blowing against their backs. Small snowflakes began to fall around them, gently settling on their shoulders and hair. The Darkling--Aleksander, she thought--reached out and let a few flakes collect into his cupped palm. Alina tipped her head back and managed to catch one on her tongue. 

Seeing her satisfaction, the Darkling laughed. It was rich and dark, and she longed to hear it again. It was all the more precious for being such a rare thing. "So young," he repeated. But this time she didn't object or push him away.

They stood there with their hands clasped, watching the lake, the little island, and the forest beyond. Alina felt as if something like a truce had begun to grow between them as the snow eddied in small whirlwinds and played along the tips of the trees. Part of her hoped that the moment would never end, but a larger part of her knew there was still a long road ahead--that nothing had been resolved.

But it was a start.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been looking forward to this one. Ok, if I'm honest, I'm looking forward to EVERY chapter of this fic. I'm almost done drafting this sucker, and I increased the chapter count a bit to account for everything that needs to happen. 
> 
> Thank you all for reading and liking and commenting. It's awesome to have such great readers :)

Alina stood at the lakeshore with the Darkling until she began to shiver despite her magnificent _kefta_. Sensing her discomfort, he drew her back towards the Little Palace and left her at the staircase leading to her rooms.

"We will talk more later," was all he said, and with that he was gone.

Alina found that there were still men guarding her door, but she told herself that it wouldn't be long until she'd gained his trust enough that he would let her walk freely about the palace. She hoped so, at least.

On entering her quarters, she hurried over to the fireplace and held her hands out towards the flames. They leaped and spat sparks as a log cracked, but she was so cold that she didn't move away. 

Katya entered, carrying a steaming mug and brought it to Alina.

"I saw you coming in and thought you could use this."

Alina took a sip and swallowed a mouthful of rich hot chocolate.

"Have I told you how amazing you are, Katya?"

The girl laughed at that, but her laughter faded after a moment. Looking at the ground, she said, "You were out by the lake?"

Realizing they'd been seen, Alina accidentally took a large gulp of her drink, burning her tongue and throat. Of course the maid would feel betrayed at Alina's show of...whatever that had been a show of. She still didn't know herself why she'd taken his hand in hers other than that it had felt right.

She sighed. "I have to make him trust me. He has to be stopped, and the only way to do that is to find a way around his defenses. I can change his mind--I can change _him_. I know it."

Katya gave her a sad smile. "Men like that don't change. No matter how much you try or how much you may want them to."

She was probably right, Alina thought. "Well, I have to find a way. I have to beat him at his own game."

The maid nodded, looking unconvinced, and changed the subject. "Would you like a bath?"

"Desperately."

The rest of Alina's afternoon involved lying in the giant copper tub. As she did so, she swirled her fingers through the bubbles and tried not to think about the feel of the Darkling's touch. How his long, slim fingers had fit around hers, and how his thumb had lightly caressed the side of her hand.

He was attracted to her. That much was obvious. Their encounter in the Queen's receiving room had proven it, when his desire had battled with his anger at her making him feel "weak." He may not like it, but he wanted her despite himself. 

The thought filled her with a sense of power and pleasure. She couldn't help but wonder at what would happen if he gave in to his hidden hunger.

Something told her it would be incredible. She shivered despite the warmth of the bath.

When she climbed out, she dressed in her beautiful new _kefta_. It was already dark outside, and she had a feeling he would come for her that night. And if he did, she wanted to be ready for him. More than anything, she wanted their next encounter to be on her own terms.

Steeling herself to do something bold, Alina opened her bedroom door and looked out at the inevitable guard standing outside of it.

"I need to see the Darkling."

The guard shook his head. "You're not allowed out of your room."

"Are you going to shoot me, then?" she asked. 

"If I have to."

Alina raised her eyebrows and gave the _oprichnik_ a disbelieving look. "I think if you did that, the Darkling would have your head. I think you should do what I've asked and take me to see him."

Alina almost felt sorry for the man at the look on his face. He must have been contemplating the likelihood of his demise if he hurt the vaunted Sun Summoner. Finally, he gave her a sharp nod and gestured for her to go ahead.

She felt triumph shoot through her. The victory over one of her captors made her feel as if she had drunk her fill of champagne. It was a heady thrill to finally be back in control of one single moment since she had no control over anything else in her life.

When they arrived at the Darkling's quarters, the guard took one of his comrades aside and whispered something to him. The man gave Alina a look of disbelief as if to say "Your funeral." Instead of denying her, though, he pointed to a spot next to the table in the receiving room. Gruffly, he said, "Wait here. I will deliver your message."

Alina felt impatience filling her, replacing her sense of triumph. She had known she wouldn't be able to march right into his private rooms, but she didn't want to lose her nerve. When the guard returned and beckoned her forward, she felt a sense of relief. Lifting her head high, she summoned her confidence like she would a warm handful of light. The door to his personal chambers stood open, and she cautiously entered. The door closed behind her, the guard shutting her in with his commander. Alina swallowed and hoped she wasn't making a mistake. 

The Darkling sat at his desk, looking over another report. She had always gotten the impression that he spent most of his waking hours poring over documents or choosing strategies in his war room. Did the man ever take a moment to just lounge around? Somehow, Alina doubted it.

Without looking up, he said, "I'm very busy. What do you want, Alina?" She tried not to let his blunt words dissuade her.

"I wanted to see you."

At that, he looked up. "Really," he said, his voice disbelieving as he arched a brow. 

"Really. I thought we could spend some time getting to know each other."

"Did you now."

The Darkling rose to his feet and moved around the desk. He leaned his lower back against it, crossing his arms and resting one ankle on top of the other. If there was a way for him to seem more closed off, Alina couldn't image it.

"And what would you like to talk about? Something tells me you're going to try to convince me I can choose 'a different path' and try to be...how did you put it...'A force for good.'"

Alina flushed in irritation.

"How about you just try not being an ass."

His eyes narrowed. "If you think I'm going to be your pet and roll over like a good boy after one afternoon together, you can think again."

She threw her hands up in the air. "Why am I even bothering with you?"

"I don't know," he said. "Why are you bothering with me?" There seemed to be genuine curiosity on his voice.

"Because I believe there's something more to you. There has to be. It can't all be deception and greed."

He stood silent for a moment.

"Fine. What do you want to know?"

For some reason, frustration rose up in her. "I want to know _you_," Alina said as she practically stamped her foot. "Tell me something about your life, or what you like or dislike, or how you get through the day. I don't care what it is." She gestured at the bookcases crammed floor to ceiling with books. "Even what your favorite book is, for Saints' sake. Tell me something that makes you human!"

She stopped, breathing hard in frustration.

The Darkling tilted his head. "Why does it matter to you so much?" he asked.

Alina tried to think of the answer to his question, but it slipped away from her. She stared at the floor and tried to calm her frayed nerves.

At her lack of response, the Darkling stepped closer until he stood directly in front of her. Tilting her chin up with one finger, he forced her to meet his gaze. "I think it matters to you so much because you fear it--What you will become. You fear the future, and you need me to be human so badly because you are afraid that someday you won't be."

Alina's lips parted. She wanted to deny his words. She'd meant to come here and appeal to the parts of himself he might keep hidden, not to find herself listening to him. And believing him.

He sighed. "I wish I could tell you that you won't change, Alina. But it would be a lie. You will change. You will grow. And you will diminish at the same time. There is no way to hold onto humanity."

"You're wrong," she said.

He laughed, and she knew he was mocking himself as much as he was mocking her. "I wish I were wrong. But experience tells me I am not."

Alina felt tears prick her eyes.

He moved his hand to cup her cheek. She let him, all desire to pull away withering inside of her.

"You wanted to know something about me," he murmured.

She dipped her head in a slight nod.

He let go of her and turned to the bookcase, contemplating it. Then he pulled gently on one of the books' spines and drew it out. Turning, he handed the battered volume to her.

"Here. My favorite book."

Alina looked down at it. Her eyebrows drew up as she read the title skeptically. "_Ravkan Folk Tales for Children_?"

He shrugged. "You asked."

"Why do you like this one so much? Did you have it when you were a child?” She smiled a little at that thought, feeling her sadness recede. “Does it remind you of a simpler time?" 

He shook his head. "Life was never simple for me, Alina. It was always running and searching and striving. These stories remind me that there are always prices to be paid. That dangers lurk in the fairest guises. And that what we love can be our undoing."

Alina gave a small snort and handed it back. "Those are terrible reasons to have a favorite book."

He tilted his head back and laughed at that. This time it was a genuine laugh, dark and lovely. 

Alina felt it slide over her skin.

"Choose one for me?" she asked shyly.

He turned to the shelf once more to carefully return the book of folk tales to its proper place. Then he pulled out a second volume. He held it out to her.

Alina had never really had the opportunity to read for pleasure. There had been few books at Keramzin, and she had usually spent her free time chasing Mal around the rooms and fields. At the Little Palace, everything had depended on her learning as much Grisha theory as humanly possible. Reading solely for fun seemed...self-indulgent.

The Darkling gave one of his soft laughs this time at her expression.

"Go on. It won't bite." 

She took it from him, holding the slim book in her hands. 

"What's it about?"

"It's about a prince who seeks far and wide for the thing he desires the most in the world. Then he finds a beautiful maiden and tries to rescue her from an evil wizard who holds her captive. The wizard swears he will keep her with him always. He casts a spell over the prince and spirits the maiden away to live in his castle until the end of her days."

He leaned forward and whispered in her ear, "Personally, I prefer the evil wizard."

Alina shivered at the feeling of his breath brushing against her sensitive skin.

It felt as if something shifted between them, and Alina's world began to tilt. The Darkling pulled back, scanning her eyes with his own. She tried to read the expression in his quartz gaze. There was something like yearning there, and a banked flame that began to spark and burn brighter and hotter with each moment. 

Her breath caught at his expression. He leaned forward slowly, giving her time to back away. She didn't move. But somehow she was still bending towards him like a flower to the sun. Their lips met in a soft brush, and even that small touch set her nerves on fire.

Recognizing her need, the Darkling rested one hand on her hip. When she still didn't move away, he used his other hand to hold her steady, bracketing her body with his hands. Those hands held a hidden strength, and in them Alina could feel his restraint holding firm against his desire for her. A thought sped through her: she wanted to break that restraint and plumb the depths of his own need for her. What would it be like? She needed to know.

The contrast between the strength in his hands and the softness of his lips sent a thrill through her body that made her gasp. He took that small gesture as an invitation, gently sliding his tongue inside her mouth. The feel of it made her lose her balance slightly, and he held her tighter, allowing her to relax into his body. 

His chest felt hard against her breasts in a way that sent a sweet excitement trilling through her. As if he would teach her even more about passion, he set up a slow, insistent rhythm with his tongue that caused something in her stomach to tighten. She hadn't felt that sensation since their encounter in the Queen's sitting room, and she recognized the sharp ache of desire for what it was. She had been told how it was between a man and a woman. The movement of his tongue thrusting gently inside her, and the thought of what he so clearly wanted to do to her filled her with such desire that it nearly undid her.

One of her hands still clasped the book at her side, but she lifted her other hand to rest it on the back of his neck, pulling him closer. The demanding movement led him to increase their kiss, and he made a hungry sound in the back of his throat.

Alina longed for him to pull her even closer. To give her every part of himself, both physically and emotionally. But even as the thought sped through her, he broke away from her with an abrupt motion. As he pulled back, breathing quickly, she caught the look of frustration and even a hint of despair on his face.

"What is it," she gasped.

He just gave a low laugh as he pushed himself farther away from her. His voice came as a deep rasp when he finally said. "When it comes to you, Alina, I can't keep myself from wanting what I shouldn't have."

"But...what...?" She wanted to pull him back to her, but the moment had broken. He was already pulling the pieces of his armor back into place.

"Didn't you come here hoping to make me change?" he demanded. "And here I am, giving you power over me. I won't allow it," he said as he roughly pushed his hair back from his face. "You should go."

"But I--" 

"Go."

She felt bewildered. Her body ached for him, and she knew he felt the same way. But he refused to take the step of baring himself to her unless it was to further his goals as he had at the Fête. It was clear he didn't want to lose his vaunted control.

Alina drew herself up and clutched the book, turning to leave him. Before she did, she turned her head, saying, "You don't have to be alone, Aleksander."

At the sound of his name on her lips, he looked for a moment as if that control might crack. Instead, he walked to the door and opened it, ushering her out. 

She refused to feel anything but anger, and she swept out of the room with her head high. But her pride felt cold in comparison to what had burned between them. He knew what she was doing. There was no hiding from that fact, but perhaps if she could leverage the fledgling hints of something more between them, then perhaps she could make him see how feelings like love and mercy didn't have to equate to weakness. They could become his strength.

She just needed a little more time.

As she left the Darkling's quarters, she dimly registered that there were footsteps sounding in the distance. Alina was too caught up in her musings to give them any thought. it wasn't until she heard a deep voice exclaim "Alina." that she finally looked up.

It was Mal.

He stood in one of the circles of light cast by the candles scattered throughout the hall, his brown hair haloed by their glow. He looked tired and travel stained, and his face was as uncharacteristically hard as it had been the last time she had seen him. 

She didn't care.

"Mal!" she cried, hurrying towards him. Finally, there was the possibility of an ally--someone who could help her escape from captivity. Someone to help her halt the Darkling's mad plans.

She went to throw her arms around him in relief, but he held her at arms' length.

"You were coming from his room." he accused. "I saw you. You just can't stay away from him can you?"

Alina shook her head. "Mal...I can explain. He's been--"

"Don't bother," he said, dropping her wrists. "I don't want to know." He gave a mirthless laugh. "I'm not here for you, anyway. I'm here for _him_. I've come to tell the Darkling I brought him his prize. We have the stag." 

Alina's heart dropped. All her excitement drained away as did the blood in her face.

She was too late.

Mal waited for a moment to see if she was going to respond to his revelation. When she didn't, he shook his head in frustration and stalked away from her towards the war room.

Alina's thoughts whirled through her mind. All her plans to save Ravka, her plans to save the Darkling--to save herself in turn. All of it was lost. And there was nothing to do but stare after Mal when he turned from her, leaving her alone as he carried her hopes and dreams along with him.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hated writing about the stag's death at the end of this chapter, but there's no way around it in this story. Sorry, Alina.  
CW: animal death

Alina thought quickly. Mal didn't know it, but he held the fate of their people in his hands along with this news. And it seemed like there was no way to stop him from giving the Darkling the tool to wreak his havoc on the world. But she had to try.

"Mal! Wait!" she called out. He paused, his back to her. At first, he held himself rigid, but then his shoulders slumped. He spoke without looking at her.

"I don't want to fight with you, Alina. You've changed. I get that. I just wish it could have been different between us."

Alina stepped towards him, catching his sleeve in her hand, forcing him to turn. “Will you stop?! There's something I need to tell you--"

A cool voice broke in, "And what do you need to tell him, Alina?"

She dropped the sleeve as if it burned her. Looking over Mal’s shoulder, she could see the Darkling stood outside the door to his quarters. The guards must have alerted him to Mal's presence. 

The Darkling swept towards them. "Do you have something for me, tracker?"

Mal nodded, opening his mouth. Without thinking, Alina blurted out, "He couldn't find it! The stag. It wasn't where they thought it would be." Maybe with that lie, Mal would understand that something was very, very wrong, she thought. Maybe he would leave and that would be the end of it. She knew that was wishful thinking, but she couldn’t just stand by and do nothing.

The Darkling raised an eyebrow as he took in Mal's baffled expression and Alina's trembling hands.

"Don't you have somewhere to be, Alina?" he asked smoothly. "With your maid, perhaps?"

If anything, Mal looked even more bewildered at that. 

Alina flushed at the reminder that Katya's life was at stake, and she remembered her promise to not jeopardize the girl's fate by stepping out of line.

She gritted her teeth. She didn't want Katya to be hurt, but she refused to be silenced so easily. "When it comes to the stag, I don't have anywhere else to be. It's meant to be _my_ amplifier, after all." She knew she sounded petulant, but she would not be shuttled off to the side, only drawn back into the world when the Darkling had need of her.

The Darkling gave a smile that was just this side of mocking. "Of course." He turned to Mal. "Well, tracker?"

Mal looked mulishly at the other man as if he wouldn't speak, but he finally bit out, "We have it. The stag. I came ahead to tell you to prepare for its arrival. Our sledge is nearly outside the city gates."

The look of exultation on the Darkling's face at that news made Alina's heart drop. Would he force the collar on her tonight? Or would she have more time to try to sway him towards a different path? She realized the two men had continued to talk while she was lost in her thoughts. 

"We trudged through a snowstorm until we were deep in the heart of Tsibeya," Mal was saying. "Then just as the sun set on the third day, the herd appeared."

"Did the Fabrikators' net hold?" the Darkling asked.

Mal nodded. "Its weight was perfect. It brought the stag down, and no matter how hard it tried, it couldn't get free. After that, we loaded it up to bring it here."

"It's been untouched?"

"Not a scratch on it."

"Good." 

Alina wondered if the stag had struggled and starved all the way to the Little Palace. The group must have travelled day and night to arrive so soon. She dreaded seeing the animal, but curiosity also prickled down her spine. And if she were perfectly honest with herself, there was excitement there, too. The most powerful amplifier in the world waited outside the city walls. Soon it would be hers. She shivered at the thought, and it was impossible to tell whether the dread or the anticipation won out.

"You've done well," the Darkling said, "and you will be rewarded."

"I didn't do it for you," Mal muttered, his glance shooting towards Alina, but the Darkling ignored him as he turned to his guards.

"Go with the tracker. Help them bring the stag to the stables."

The guards snapped to attention and headed out, with Mal reluctantly in tow. He looked back at Alina just once, and her heart turned over painfully in her chest as if a Heartrender had squeezed it in their palm. 

Soon it was just the Darkling and herself standing in the candlelight in the middle of the hall. His blackness of his _kefta_ seemed to eat the light spilling over him. A smile played on his lips.

"What?" she demanded.

"Victory is sweet," he said simply. His gaze followed Mal and the guards as they left the hall. "And it has been a long time coming." He let out a breath, and it was as if he'd been holding it in for centuries. She saw him relax infinitesimally in a way she'd never seen him relax before.

"So that's it?" Alina asked. "You're going to destroy an ancient creature just because you think it will give you more power?"

"I don't think so, Alina. I know so."

"What if you're wrong? Maybe it's just a regular old stag and not a magical, talking one." 

The Darkling shook his head. "As I told you before, the stag is not magic."

"Fine, it's not magic. But Baghra told me it was part of 'the oldest science.'"

"And she would know," he said with a bitter twist to his mouth.

"What is that supposed to mean? Baghra wants neither one of us to have anything to do with the stag. Why can't you just leave well enough alone?"

The Darkling sighed. "So many questions."

"Yes, I have questions," Alina snapped. "It's the most powerful amplifier in the world. And if it's the key to helping you, then I don't want it!" 

"Liar," he shot back. His eyes held a strange light as he said, "I know what you want. It's the same thing I want. You want that stag's life. You want it to expand your powers to the point where nothing can stand in your way. To let that knowledge warm you throughout the lonely nights, and to never have to rely on anyone ever again. Because all the world does is disappoint you and leave you cold and alone with nothing and no-one to warm you.”

Alina fell silent as she took in his words--more words than he had possibly ever said to her in the past. He was wrong. Wasn't he? She didn't want that power. And she wasn't alone in the world. She had Mal and Genya and Katya...Marie and Nadia and all the other Grisha. Baghra and Botkin, even. But as she rattled off the list of names in her head, she felt the hollow weight of the realization that none of those people were here. None of them could help her. She felt dizzy at the thought that some of those people had betrayed her or turned away from her or didn't truly understand her. And they would probably all be long dead before she came into the height of her power. In that moment, she felt the weight of being an orphan, wrecked on an ocean of broken dreams and promises. She had never felt so alone.

"I understand what you're feeling," the Darkling said softly. It was as if he had read her mind. "Nobody else can understand you...can understand what it's like to be one of us...but I do." He reached up and pushed a lock of hair gently away from her face, his fingers caressing her cheek.

Alina swallowed. But no matter how seductive his words and his touch were, she refused to give in to them. She stepped back. He let his hand fall away from her.

"You don't have to do this," she begged. Perhaps pleading would work where anger and denial had not.

"Oh, but I do. I need your light if I am to control the Fold. And your powers are not sufficient to counteract the Fold's darkness without the amplifier. I need you to be a Grisha beyond anything that has ever been seen before."

That thought was almost as seductive as the Darkling himself. She tried to shake the feeling off, but it lingered in her veins. 

Changing tactics to appeal to his own greed for power, she said, "If you took the amplifier, then _you_ would be the most powerful Grisha in all of history. Surely you must want it for yourself." 

He hesitated. She knew it tempted him - the thought of what he could control. The kingdoms and people he could bend to his will if he possessed it.

"It's not for me. It is my birthright. But not for me." He spoke in a low voice, almost to himself as if Alina weren't there at all. 

"What?" she asked, confused.

"Ilya Morozova's stag. It bears the Bonesmith's name, just as I do. Aleksander Morozova"

The Bonesmith. She had never heard that phrase before. Alina's mind raced. "Morozova...but he's ancient. How can you be related to him?"

"He was my grandfather. Baghra's father, in fact." He leaned closer to whisper, "If you had not guessed it, we are much older than we look." He paused. "But Baghra waited until long into her life to bear me. I am not quite so ancient as all that."

Alina looked helplessly into his face. That perfect, deceptive face of a young man. He had probably lied to her the entire time she had known him, but somehow she sensed he was not lying now about his heritage. It was too bizarre to be a lie.

The Darkling seemed to be warring with himself about how much to tell her. Finally, he said, "Before his untimely death at the hands of ignorant peasants, Ilya Morozova was a Fabrikator with extraordinary abilities. I'll leave it to Baghra to tell you the details of exactly how he lived and why he died. Suffice it to say, it was not pretty."

He watched her face for her reaction as he said, "From the time I was a child, she told me of Morozova's genius and his obsession: to create the most powerful of amplifiers. Those amplifiers would be tied to the mysterious creatures that survived from the making of the world itself. The stag became the most powerful of the three, but the other two amplifiers are what we know as the Firebird and the Sea Whip."

"But," Alina spluttered, "Morozova's stag, the Sea Whip, the Firebird--those are all just children's tales. They don't really exist!"

"Oh, they exist. You'll see when the tracker returns with my prize. I have hunted all three of the creatures for centuries, both at the behest of kings I was forced to serve and also for my own purposes. But they are elusive beasts, even to one who has searched as long as I have." 

Alina tried to take in this information, but it still didn't make any sense to her. "If this "Bonesmith" created them, then why didn't he use them?"

"Who can say?" the Darkling mused. His face went hard. "But he was a fool not to take the power for himself." 

"Perhaps he was wiser than you if he didn't want such a thing."

He gave her a long look. "And what of you, Alina? What do you think it would it be like to possess an amplifier made from the Firebird? From the Sea Whip? To possess the powers of the greatest creatures tied to the elements of earth, air, and sea? Morozova wrote of his theories in his journals. I've read them. He was mocked for his beliefs by those who heard of his ideas, and he was also reviled by his fellow Grisha for daring to suggest a combination of amplifiers was possible. But he did it. He created the means to become more powerful than anyone has ever dreamed." 

Alina shook her head and quoted, "'_What is infinite? The universe and the greed of men_.' It's against all of the Grisha teachings. There are limits on our power for a reason!" She spoke the words, but in her heart, she felt a spark of longing for the possibilities contained in the amplifiers.

The Darkling shook his head, and the gesture was filled with impatience.

"Those reasons do not apply to us." He reached out to her, taking her hand in his as they had done when they stood at the lakeshore. His long, cool fingers felt so right laced with hers. She knew it was her orphan's heart leaping at the idea of being loved and accepted alongside his power as a human amplifier that made it feel that way, but she couldn't seem to push him away. 

"We could be equals with the amplifiers, Alina." he said softly. "Together, you and I could create a new world."

His voice was so soothing. It made Alina's heart yearn for something she couldn't name. 

He ran his thumb over her hand, his voice a gentle murmur. "You can do this. You can take the stag’s power for yourself and retain a measure of control over your destiny. You can join me in my quest." He dropped her hand abruptly, shocking her with the loss of his touch and the surety that went along with it. "Or I can put the collar around your neck and take what I need of your power whenever I choose. The choice is entirely yours."

She felt stunned at his sudden change. Somehow, the coldness in his face and voice made that longing in her heart leap even higher. She wanted his approval, she realized. She yearned for it. And that terrified her.

She stepped back from him. As she did so, a door leading to an outer courtyard opened, and a flurry of snow blew into the hall. A guard entered and approached the Darkling, saying, "_Moi soverenyi_. All is ready in the stables."

The Darkling nodded, gesturing to Alina. "After you." Such a gentleman, she thought sarcastically.

Between the guards, the Darkling himself, and her own desire to see the stag, she felt she had no choice but to follow. She wished that part of her that wanted to go with him to see this marvel was less insistent than it truly was. But she desperately wanted to see it. And if she did see it, would there be any turning back, or would she want the power the stag promised?

They crossed the lawns and walked past the lake. A cold wind blew through the night air, ruffling the edges of the water. Alina had never been to the stables, but she knew they were near Botkin's training rooms. A light shone in the distance from the doorway of a broad building. The sound of horses stamping and whinnying filled her ears.

On entering the stable, her eyes were immediately drawn to the stag's body. Its legs were hobbled, and it lay strapped to a sledge under the weight of a gleaming net of Grisha steel. The stag's dark eyes were wide, the whites of its eyes showing bright in the light of the torches held aloft by the trackers surrounding it. As they approached, the animal thrashed its powerful legs, but the net held firm.

Mal stood next to the stag, and it seemed to dwarf him even though it was lying down. It was larger than any ordinary stag by far. Its antlers gleamed silver in the torchlight, and its pale hide glowed. The stag was truly a creature of the ancient world like nothing ever seen before.

Alina felt awed in the face of its beauty. Dropping to her knees, she reached out one hand slowly and rested it on the stag's side. Its lungs heaved deep breaths in and out of its body, its massive sides expanding and contracting under her palm.

I'm so sorry, Alina thought. This wasn't how things were supposed to be. This wondrous creature was supposed to be in the wilds of Tsibeya, leading its herd and following the stars as they blossomed in the twilight sky.

But she needed to kill it. She needed to be in control of herself and her power if she was to have any chance to prevent the expansion of the Fold. 

The Darkling stood over her. "It's time," he said in his cool voice. He held out a large knife made of Grisha steel. Her hand shook as she reached up to take it from him. It rested clumsily in her palm, and she clenched her hand around the hilt in an attempt to stop herself from shaking. She could hear the pulse of her own heart and the rushing of blood in her ears. Time seemed to slow down as she looked the stag in the eye one last time. 

Then she raised her arm and plunged the knife into the stag's chest.

The stag's cry ripped through the air as blood spurted around the blade, and Alina choked back a sob. 

The horror of the moment seemed to last on and on until finally the stag's sides stopped moving, and the liquid sheen of its eyes were glazed in death.

Then strong arms were pulling her up and away.

Hands came down on her shoulders, and she heard the Darkling's voice in her ear. 

"You did well."

She felt as if something precious inside her--a part of her very soul--had been stained by this act. Turning her head away from the stag's dead body, she tried to erase it from her field of vision. "I will hate you for this for the rest of my life," she said bitterly.

His hands pulled her backwards so that she rested against the solid wall of his chest. "I think you will find that hate is a small price to pay for what you have gained."

She didn't want to believe him, but alongside the horrified pounding of the blood in her head, there was also an exultant voice that shrieked with pleasure like a child who had been handed a birthday present. 

Saints help me, Alina thought, sending her plea into the night air. 

But there was nothing and nobody that answered her call, only the silence and shadows that seemed to creep into her heart until she felt cold to the depths of her bones.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, everyone! Y'all are amazing. There's more setup in this chapter, but stick with me :) And I know I write Mal as a complete ass, but I just finished the audiobooks...and let's be honest, that's how he is for large portions of the books...

Alina turned her head back towards the stag's dead body. She needed to see what came next. She had a vague idea of what would happen if the Darkling achieved his goal and turned the stag into an amplifier, but seeing it in practice was something else entirely. 

Blood dripped from the knife as Mal pulled it free from the stag's chest. The drops scattered like rubies spilling to the ground. Alina shuddered at the sight.

"Tracker. Bring me the antlers."

Mal looked up at the Darkling's curt command, and his eyes blazed with fury. For a moment, he looked like he would throw the knife onto the ground rather than follow the order. But finally Mal turned to the stag with a nod. After cleaning the blade on one of the stable's saddle blankets, he took hold of a piece of antler and began to saw at it.

Alina felt like she was going to be sick, but she didn't turn away. She had done this, so she would keep watch.

After several long moments had passed, Mal finished. He showed the Darkling the two pieces of antler he held in his hands. At a silent nod from the Darkling, Mal offered up the pieces to a Fabrikator who stepped forward to collect them. Alina felt surprise at seeing that it was David in his purple _kefta_.

David's face held a strange, almost awed light as he took the pieces from Mal's hands. Did he know the importance of what he held? He must have known it was Morozova's stag, a creature stepped straight out of legend, but Alina couldn't imagine he knew the true intent behind the Darkling's wish for her to possess the amplifier.

She almost jumped when she felt her hair swept to the side of her neck by the Darkling's long fingers.

"Put it on her," the Darkling ordered David, and the Fabrikator stepped forward, carrying the bone pieces in his hands. Replacing the Darkling at Alina's back, David placed the pieces of antler so that the prongs overlapped, weaving together over her collarbone and forming a collar around her throat. Alina felt as if she were choking, although the collar was nowhere near so tight.

"It's not too late," Alina said desperately, trying to catch the Darkling's eyes.

He ignored her, keeping his eyes trained on David's hands. 

She felt a warmth at the back of her neck, and she knew he had begun his careful work of fusing together the pieces of bone. David was the best Fabrikator the Darkling had in his arsenal, and there would be no getting free of the collar once it was completed. She longed to jerk away from him--to run outside of the stable into the snow and away from the Little Palace into the wilds of Tsibeya itself.

As if he sensed her intent, the Darkling raised a hand and wagged a finger back and forth in warning as his gaze dragged over to where Mal stood. 

Alina's eyes shot to Mal. His face bore a cold, disgusted expression. He had no idea what was happening. And even if he did, there was no way he'd be able to defend himself against what the Darkling would throw at him. She stilled, although her entire being rebelled at what was happening.

With a final burst of heat, she felt David's hands fall away from her neck, and the full weight of the collar rested against her upper chest and at the hollow of her throat.

"It's done," he said quietly.

The Darkling watched her with that look of exultation and triumph he had worn when he first heard the stag was drawing near to the city. He stepped close, reaching up his hand to gently trace the overlapping pieces of bone. "Beautiful," he said, and his cool voice held more than a hint of satisfaction. Mal looked away from them both, studying the wall as if seeing the Darkling so close to Alina sickened him.

She pitched her voice low. "You have what you wanted. Let my friend go."

"Only if you make him go, Alina."

"What?...Why?" she asked, confused.

"I wouldn't want him returning and getting in the way when he so clearly cares for you. So send him away."

Alina felt perplexed. Mal probably hated her. Didn't he? But maybe not. She would probably never be as skilled at reading people as the Darkling was. If there was a hint of a chance that Mal would be hurt, she would do whatever needed to be done to keep such a thing from taking place.

She stepped close to her childhood friend and the love of her adult life. Her heart dropped at the aloofness in his gaze. He may be angry with her for the words they'd exchanged--for being the Grisha that she was--but it didn't matter. She would hurt him and hurt herself in the process to keep him safe.

Saints. I love him so much, Alina thought. She'd loved him ever since they'd been children, and she always would. And she knew what she had to do.

She smiled broadly, trying to make it reach her eyes. "Thank you, Mal. You don't know what this means to me."

"I don't know, and I don't want to," he muttered.

Alina laughed, and she knew the tinkling sound would rub his nerves raw. "Well, you may not care, but I'm happy. I have everything I could ever want. This is the most powerful amplifier in history, Mal. Now we have a chance to destroy the Fold itself." At that she glanced at the Darkling, begging him to consider the idea, but his face was as impassive as ever. 

Alina turned her eyes back to Mal's. "Is there anything I can give you for your troubles? Gold? Jewels?"

Mal's eyes darkened, and his voice was contemptuous as he said, "I don't want anything from you."

Alina shrugged as if his words meant nothing, when in reality it felt as if her heart would break. "Suit yourself." She stepped back from him, and her smile turned cold. "I'm sure we won't ever see each other again since you're First Army and I'm Grisha now. Take care of yourself, Mal."

And with that, she swept away from him and went straight to the Darkling. Bowing low in a humble pose, she murmured "_Moi soverenyi_" as if she were one of his favored Grisha. Which I suppose I am, Alina thought grimly. 

The Darkling didn't even bat an eye at her display, merely nodded and gestured for her to rise. She did, taking her place by his side and giving him an adoring look that she knew would set Mal's teeth on edge. When she took the Darkling's hand in hers, she knew that was what would break Mal's control, and she was right. She could hear him swear under his breath. 

As if he enjoyed watching Mal suffer, the Darkling pulled Alina close to his side and brought her hand up to his mouth to kiss her knuckles gently. Mal looked as if he would like to punch whoever was closest to him, up to and including the Darkling. 

Alina knew it looked like the two of them were lovers, and she did nothing to keep Mal from assuming it wasn't true. Hurt him to save him, she thought desperately.

The Darkling had a condescending smile on his face as he said, "Your job here appears to be done, tracker." 

"Yeah. It does," Mal snarled. "Goodbye, Alina," he said shortly, without looking her way. As he left, Alina felt what was left of her heart disintegrate into dust. 

"I'm impressed," the Darkling purred beside her. "Who knew you had such a ruthless streak. You could have a career on the stage."

She pushed away from him. "Just let me go. I need to be alone."

He laughed, amusement and greed gleaming in his eyes. "You said it yourself--you wear the most powerful amplifier in the history of the world. Surely you want to see what it can do."

"I don't care," she said, tiredly. But her heart revived against her will at the thought of what she now possessed. She reached up and touched the collar, feeling the smooth and perfect texture beneath her fingertips.

"Try it," he said to her. It was an order, but one she was only too willing to follow.

She stepped out into the night. Nobody moved to stop her as she walked back towards the Little Palace. Snow had fallen recently, and her footprints left faint impressions on the ground. She drifted away from the light of the stable. As she turned her head back over her shoulder, she could see the Darkling outlined in the torchlight flowing from the stable, a dark blot against the brightness. At a word from him, the torches were extinguished, and the world was plunged into darkness.

"Now, Alina." His voice slid through the dark, wrapping itself around her very soul. She looked out into the black sky dotted with stars then reached inside of herself to grasp her power.

And she lit up the world. 

Light exploded out of her body, filling the night with its brilliance. A wave of heat followed in its wake, melting the snow around her as far as she could see. Steam rose from the ground, from the bushes, from the trees that surrounded the stables. Alina had never felt so alive as the rush of power filled her body. It flung her consciousness up into the air and allowed elation and euphoria to take the place of her sadness and fear.

It was like nothing she'd ever known before. It was more power than she'd even dreamed of. It went on and on as if there was no limit to it. 

And she wanted more. 

She could see the lake in the distance, the Grand Palace, even the city walls themselves. The cold that had seemed to seep into her bones had left her, and she felt as if she stood in the middle of a bright summer's afternoon. It seemed as if day had come early to Os Alta. Birds rustled in the trees, beginning to sing as they confused her light for the brilliance of the sun. And over it all, she felt herself pulled away on a tide of life and a rushing happiness that shook her to her core.

It went on for hours and hours. Or perhaps it lasted only minutes. She had lost all conception of time. It was only when she felt strong arms wrap themselves around her waist that she pulled back from the edge of the endless expanse of light, letting it dwindle to a glowing corona around her body.

She felt dizzy with elation, drunk on what her abilities could do at this first brush with them. If this was just the beginning, then who could say what she could accomplish in the days and years to come? A raw pleasure filled her at the thought.

"Alina," the Darkling's voice sounded in her ear, and she reveled in the sound. His voice was filled with the same excitement that filled her, as if he were a much younger man seeing something wondrous for the first time. She turned in his arms, laughing giddily, and looked up into his face. His eyes were alight with a bright joy that resonated with what rang through her own soul. It was true. He understood what she felt as nobody else did. She didn't think, she just reached up and drew his head down towards hers, threading her fingers through his silky hair. He kissed her this time not with the controlled distance she'd felt in his bedroom earlier that evening, but with a rough urgency that took her breath away. 

She had never been kissed like this, not even in her wildest dreams about Mal. 

Mal. 

The one she'd hurt so badly and who was fleeing her presence at that very moment. What would he have thought of her display? At this thought she jerked back a little, and the Darkling released her. Gasping, she stared up at him, unsure of what to do or say. His eyes still burned with a hunger that made her shiver despite herself. Seeing her reaction, he reached out and took her chin in his hand, running his thumb over her bottom lip very gently.

"Alina," he said again, slowly this time, and she could hear desire and something else tangled together in his voice as he said her name. 

Awareness came back to her, and she realized that an array of shouts flew through the air. The windows of the Little Palace had been thrown open, and Grisha stuck their heads out to see where the dazzling display had come from. They marveled and stared down at her wide-eyed. Not just at her, she realized. At _them_. They'd seen her embrace the Darkling. There was no hiding from that fact, even if she wanted to, and she wasn't sure what she wanted if she was completely honest with herself.

The blood sang in her veins, and everything inside her said to bring back the intoxicating rush of light, the intoxicating taste of his mouth--to bring back _both_ if she could somehow manage it. She could feel the Darkling's gaze on her, and the thrill of it made her ache. 

He leaned towards her, and his voice was taut with that unknown emotion as he said, "We are going to change the world, you and I." 

Fear like a cold knife stabbed through her at those words. Despite that, it took all her willpower to turn from him without a word and walk somewhat unsteadily towards the Little Palace and the entrance leading back into the domed hall.

"What should we do with the stag's body?" she heard one of the men call out from the stable.

"Burn it."

Alina felt sick once more at the thought, and her nausea warred with the rest of her body that still thrummed with a vibrant reaction. Once she stood inside the dim, empty space of the hall, she let her guard down. Her shoulders slumped, and she sank onto one of the nearby benches.

She was dismayed that she had reacted so intensely and with such abandon to the abilities she had gained from the collar. How could she hope to defeat the Darkling if she kept being swept away by his lust for power and his lust for her? She had to be stronger if she was going to save herself, let alone anyone else.

Footsteps sounded behind her, and she turned to see David hovering in the doorway to the hall.

"What is it David?" she asked wearily.

He shuffled towards her, never taking his eyes off the collar at her throat. "It's incredible," he said.

Alina sighed. Everyone seemed drawn to the amplifier. If only they gave some thought to what exactly she could do with it, and by extension what the Darkling could do with it.

"I can't believe I saw Morozova's stag," David was saying as he shook his head.

"I know. It was so beautiful. And now it's just...this," she lifted the collar an inch above her neck and let it drop back down to rest against her skin.

David looked momentarily nonplussed. "Didn't you want the amplifier?"

"Of course I wanted it, it's just that it was a creature from the making of the world! Its death shouldn't be taken lightly."

He looked at her as he said, "It's not only that. It's _merzost_." 

Alina drew in a sharp breath. The word meant two things: magic...and abomination. 

"What do you mean?" she asked him. 

"It's Morozova's stag. Ilya Morozova, the Fabrikator."

She gaped at him. How had he known that, and what else did David know?

At her silence, David spoke a little nervously. "We're not supposed to talk about him, but Morozova is kind of a legend among the Fabrikators. His journals were destroyed, but we still pass down stories of him and his experiments trying to infuse _merzost_ into Grisha amplifiers. The Bonesmith did it with the stag. He also thought we should be able to combine amplifiers. Can you imagine?" David shook his head. "That kind of power drew people like the Black Heretic. That's why the Fold exists in the first place--because the Heretic experimented with Morozova's journals." 

So that was how the Fold was created, Alina thought. She had only the vaguest notions of how it had been done, let alone why the Darkling had done it. He had experimented with _merzost_ and Morozova's journals, and now he was going to experiment with her. She had never really considered how taking the amplifier for herself would make her complicit in using forbidden power. She had just wanted to stay one step ahead of him.

Her hand strayed again to the collar, feeling its interlacing prongs. If the collar was an abomination, was she an abomination as well? People didn't seem to think so. Many felt that way about the Darkling, but they had never even hinted they would think the same of her.

She was lured by the promise of greater and greater power. She was using an amplifier made with _merzost_. Maybe she wasn't as far away from the Darkling as they thought.

On that disquieting idea, several guards marched into the room in advance of the man himself. He made an appraisal of Alina's body language and the fact that she was talking to David, and said smoothly, "Am I interrupting something?"

"No," Alina said, keeping her nervousness in check. She wanted to think over David's information before confronting the Darkling about the Fold and how it had come to be. If she knew how he'd created it, perhaps she could find a way to destroy it.

"We've been summoned," he said simply. At her confused look, he continued, "the king wishes to see you. Immediately. Apparently turning night into day is a miracle he wants to witness up close."

His voice was nonchalant, but Alina could sense his frustration at being brought to heel by the monarch like an obedient dog.

Alina shifted uncomfortably. She never looked forward to visiting the Grand Palace. And now she would be under even more scrutiny than before. The Sun Summoner was about to become a major player in the fate of the country and the fate of the world.

Escape seemed farther away than ever before.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, lovely readers! I got farther than I thought I would with NaNoWriMo, so I'll keep posting two chapters a week. I love reading your comments, so let me know what you like or if something seems out of character :) Exciting things ahead in next week's chapters.

Alina walked with the Darkling, accompanied by a circle of _oprichniki_, down the broad avenue towards the Grand Palace. The guards had their guns out and at the ready, which seemed fairly ridiculous for the short distance they were traveling.

"Do we really need so many guards when we're just here at the Little Palace?" she asked, turning towards the Darkling.

The Darkling looked straight ahead as he walked. "Get used to them. From now on, you will have guards with you wherever you go. We cannot risk an attack from Fjerdan assassins or Shu Han agents." 

"Maybe I'll just use my new amplifier to overpower them all and then escape from you and this entire palace."

The Darkling gave a harsh laugh. "And how will you do that? Will you simply blind everyone while you run for the hills? Your power is still too new and unpredictable for that to work in any kind of long-term way."

Alina huffed. "Well, someday I _will_ be in charge of my power. And how do you propose to stop me then?"

"We will cross that bridge when we get there," he said cryptically.

They passed the now-familiar marble terraces and manicured gardens filled with tinkling fountains. Everything was lit by the pale gaze of the moon sitting above them in the night sky like a beacon. Alina glanced at the Darkling and couldn't help but feel that their walk would have seemed like a boy and a girl out on a romantic stroll under the stars if not for the guns and Grisha steel surrounding her.

They walked up the white marble steps to the palace entrance. It hadn't been that long since she had been there for the Winter Fête--only a few weeks, if she thought about it. The gaudy surfaces with their gold ornamentation still sparkled and shone, and the contrast between the wealth displayed there and the utter poverty she knew existed among the peasants and common folk of Ravka felt more wrong to her than ever. If it were up to her, the entire building would be melted down, ground up, and distributed among the people from the Permafrost and the mountains of the Petrazoi to the shores of the True Sea.

A seductive voice whispered through her mind that she could make such things happen if she took her place at the Darkling's side on a throne of her own. She pushed the thought away hurriedly.

Catching sight of her reflection in one of the many mirrors that lined the corridor to the throne room, Alina realized she looked more beautiful than she could ever remember herself looking before. She still didn't hold a candle to Genya, but there was a hectic glow in her cheeks and her hair gleamed in the light with honeyed highlights. 

Apparently, unheard-of power agreed with her.

When the small party entered the throne room, Alina could see it was crowded with the usual assemblage of courtiers dressed in their finery and military uniforms. The King stood pacing in front of the golden throne with a stormy expression on his face, unlike the first time she had met him when he had been seated and haughty. The Queen and the Apparat stood on the dais behind him. 

Alina and the Darkling approached, striding along the swathe of blue carpet that ran the length of the room. The guards fanned out around the edges of the hall. 

The Darkling took her hand and led her to a point just in front of the dais. On seeing them, the King stopped his pacing and stared down at them. "Well?" he barked. 

"_Moi tsar_," the Darkling said smoothly, bowing as he did so.

The King interrupted him. "My advisors alerted me to the display you and your Sun Summoner gave earlier tonight. What is the meaning of this? You were to bring the stag to me, as I commanded. Your presumption will not be tolerated!"

Oh, how it must prick and sting him to have to be subservient to this king... Alina felt more than a little bit of pleasure at the thought.

The Darkling inclined his head in a show of regret. "You are correct, your highness. I planned to bring the stag directly to the Grand Palace, but circumstances were beyond my control. We received word that Shu Han mercenaries may have followed our trackers into the heart of the city. I thought it best for Alina to take the amplifier immediately rather than risk the destruction of the stag before that could take place." 

The King seemed mollified, but he still grumbled as he said. "And where are these mercenaries now?"

"They seem to have disappeared, but our forces have been doubled, and the search for them continues."

"I refuse to accept such incompetence."

"My deepest apologies, your highness. It will not happen again. We will strengthen our forces to keep out the assassins that will begin to come in even greater numbers than before."

Alina's jaw almost dropped at that. Even greater numbers than before? Did that mean there had been attempts on her life she hadn't even known about? The thought was disquieting. 

The king sniffed. "See that you do." He turned to Alina and looked her over with his pale and watery eyes. His mustache twitched, and he said grudgingly, "She is less plain than before."

Alina hid her flash of irritation and gave a small bow instead. "Thank you, your majesty."

"Your powers are increased?"

"They are."

"Show me," the king said, just as he had the first time they'd met. When she didn't immediately obey, he clapped his hands together like a spoiled child who wanted to see a magic trick.

Alina gritted her teeth that she had to submit to his orders, but she obeyed. 

She didn't even need to reach for her power now. She just let a veil drop from inside her, and a golden rush of light filled the room. It streaked to the windows and beyond, and she could picture what the outside of the Grand Palace must look like with light pouring from its rows and rows of windows as if a thousand candles had been lit all at once. The demonstration was miles beyond what she had done at the Fête. 

A cry arose from the King and Queen along with everyone else in the room who had seen only the briefest glimpse of her earlier display that night on the palace grounds. She knew she was blinding them all with the brilliance, but for the moment she didn't care. She just wanted to revel in the use of her new power.

When the voices rose to an unbearable pitch of excitement, she released her hold on her light. It receded into a dim glow and then winked out, returning the room's brightness to what it had been before. The chandeliers twinkled merrily above their heads, but it seemed a pale imitation of what everyone had just seen. She could see eyes blinking as they adjusted to the relative dimness.

The Darkling still hadn't let go of her hand, and his touch anchored her as she scanned the sea of marveling faces that whispered their joy and elation at the thought of what her new abilities might mean: even more assurance of a victory over their enemies and the destruction of the Fold. 

The King looked just as awed as the courtiers, but he managed to give a regal nod as if the display was no more than he'd expected. "It will do," was all he said.

Alina felt another pinch of irritation, but the Darkling squeezed her hand as if he could feel her wish to snap a retort.

"If that is all, my king?" the Darkling asked humbly.

The King nodded irritably, and Alina had one final moment to enjoy the looks on everyone's faces before she turned and made her way out of the packed throne room.

Once they were back in the mirrored hallway, the Darkling pulled her to a halt.

"I must meet with the other advisors," he said, facing her.

Alina nodded, unsurprised.

"I will see you in the morning. Sleep well." He lifted her hand up to his mouth and kissed it. She tried not to feel anything but revulsion at the brush of his lips, but a trill of sensation still skittered down her nerves and she was unable to breathe for a moment. His eyes glittered as he took in her reaction.

She pulled her hand free and stalked away from him, although she could still hear his quiet laugh following her down the hallway. The guards silently moved back into formation around her as she left the building to walk back to the Little Palace. She sighed at the thought that she would never have a free moment to herself from now on.

Once she stood at the door to her room, she finally felt a sense of relief that the day was almost over. So much had happened, and she needed some time to process everything that had taken place. Turning the handle, she opened the door to find Genya waiting for her.

"Alina," she exclaimed. "I was at the palace. I saw what you did."

Alina hesitated. "What do you want, Genya?"

"Only to say how proud I am of you. You took the amplifier. When did you decide to join us alongside the Darkling?" 

Alina snorted. "When he gave me no choice but to take the amplifier or watch my friends be killed--including you, probably."

Genya went silent at that. Finally, she said, "It's for the best, Alina. You'll see."

Alina ignored her and walked to the window, staring out at the dim suggestion of shrubs and trees. Genya stepped so that she stood behind her. Alina could just make out the Tailor's reflection in the glass. 

"What is it like now? With your power?" Genya asked, curiosity etched into her words.

Alina sighed. "It's exhilarating," she admitted.

A smile burst out across Genya's face, making her even more gorgeous than before. "And what happens now?"

"Now I train so I can use these powers to destroy the Fold and destroy the Darkling's hold over this country." 

Irritation filled Genya's voice as she said, "He's not your enemy, Alina. He wants to save us."

"And who's going to save us from him?"

"Everything will be fine," Genya said, taking Alina's shoulders in her hands and giving her a brief hug. "You'll see." Genya released her and strode towards the door. "You look fabulous, by the way," she called out over her shoulder. "He won't be able to resist you."

"That's the plan," Alina muttered to herself as the door shut behind Genya. Her mind had been racing on the way back from the Grand Palace, and the ideas she'd formed were solidifying into a course of action. Back in her early days at the Little Palace, the Darkling had used Alina's need for him against her. Hopefully, she would be just as capable of coaxing the flames of his desire for her into emotions like love and hope. If she did, she could leverage those feelings into a weapon that would convince him to abandon his mad plans. It was worth a try, at least.

She felt a little sick at the idea of manipulating him the way he had done with her. But unless she became proficient in her power in a way she never had been before, then there was no hope for any of them once he took it into his head that it was time to go "destroy" the Fold. 

Going to her dressing table, she pulled out a piece of paper as she'd been doing every few days when things felt particularly overwhelming.

_Dear Mal, I think you really do hate me after tonight. It hurts me so much to think that. But I refuse to give up on you and me. I refuse to give up at all. Things are even better and even worse than they were before. I have more power than I ever dreamed of, but I don't know the first thing about it or if it just gives him the keys to victory. I know you'd hate what I need to do--to make him love me, but it's the only thing I can think of to make him see the world in a different way. And I think I can do it, Mal. If I can't, I'll always have you in my dreams. Maybe that's the only way we can ever be together, but I'll take it over having nothing at all. I'll see you again someday. And when I do, I'll explain everything._

She looked down at the letter and ran her fingertips over Mal's name, wishing things could be different. 

After slipping the note into the pocket of her summer _kefta_, she climbed into bed, the blood still humming in her ears. It took her hours to fall asleep, but when she did, she dreamed not of Mal as she'd hoped, but of light and shadow intermingling and creating something new and unstoppable.

\----------------

Alina lifted her face to the weak winter sunlight shining down and illuminating the lakeshore and the surrounding grounds that spread around her. If there was any warmth from the gentle rays, then she couldn't feel it.

"You're not concentrating," the Darkling's voice rapped out behind her.

Alina sighed. She'd been putting her new power through its paces for hours now, and the Darkling still wasn't satisfied with her progress.

"What exactly is it you want me to be able to do?" she demanded. 

"I'll know it when I see it," was all he said in reply. 

With a huff, she dropped the veil over her powers. Light burst out in a flash, warming her to her toes.

"More," he snapped behind her, just as frustrated with her apparent lack of progress as she was. "Aim at the island and focus your energy into a solid point."

She followed his instructions once more, but the only thing that happened was another intangible flash of light. He exhaled a harsh breath. Alina pulled the inner veil back up, and her light vanished. She turned on him. "I'm _trying_, alright?"

"You're not trying hard enough."

"Maybe it's not me. Maybe you're just not a good teacher." She hauled in a breath and played the card she'd been hoping to play all day. It was why she'd worked him into as close to a tizzy as she could image him having. "I need Baghra."

"You need Baghra," he mocked. "What you need is a demonstration. Should I put that tracker of yours on the rack, perhaps?" He ran a hand along his jaw, muttering to himself, "Thumbscrews and pliers would probably work wonders."

Alina rolled her eyes. His threats were still terrifying, but she refused to let him see that. "Heal Baghra, and she can show me how to use my power in ways we probably aren't even imagining." 

"What makes you so sure I can heal her? Or that I even want to."

"She can help. I know it. If you want me to be a Grisha the likes of which nobody has ever seen--if you really want to control the Fold--then you're just going to have to admit that we need her."

He crossed his arms, pulling back into himself so that his voice was even when he said, "And if I do. You will not try to escape the same way you did last time?"

"I won't. I promise."

"And how can I trust that promise?"

Alina threw her hands up in frustration. "Because I don't want 'everyone I've ever held dear' to be dead," she shouted at him. 

He just looked at her for a long moment. His voice was low as he said, "Fine. I will have her brought here. But think twice about any ideas you may have about crossing me." 

The Darkling turned and summoned one of the ever-present guards surrounding the lake. "Bring the old woman," he said, and the _oprichnik_ bowed before hurrying away. "This had better be worth it," he said softly to Alina. 

She nodded, and the two of them waited in silence, watching the guard's back as he strode towards Baghra's hut not far from the lakeshore. So that was where they'd been keeping her, Alina thought. It wasn't long before she could see the door to the hut open in the distance, and a few figures making their way back towards where Alina stood. 

When the group drew near enough, she could see that a small boy had hold of Baghra's hand. The old woman's other hand gripped her walking stick--the same stick that had whacked Alina's shins more times than she could count. A surge of relief flew through her. It had taken some time, but she would finally be able to return Baghra to her previous state and hopefully have a powerful ally to assist her in foiling the Darkling's plans.

Baghra came to a stop a few feet away from Alina and the Darkling. Her shadow-filled eyes stared out at nothing. "Well?" she barked impatiently when neither of them said anything.

The Darkling cleared his throat. "The stag is dead. Alina has the amplifier."

Baghra snorted. "You think I don't know that? I'm blind, boy, not deaf. I heard all about your precious Sun Summoner's amplifier." 

His mouth tightened at that. "Alina thinks I should heal you and that in return you will teach her how to control her new powers."

"Is that what she thought? Well, maybe I would rather stay like this than help you."

"Please, Baghra," Alina interjected.

Baghra turned her sightless gaze on Alina. "You would be a pawn in one of his games?"

"I don't have a choice, Baghra."

The older woman shook her head. "There is always a choice."

"Not in this case," the Darkling said. He sighed wearily. "For once in your life, try to assume that I know what I am doing."

Baghra shook her head again. "I know that you are a fool to think you can undo what created the Unsea."

"Then we have nothing more to say." The Darkling raised his hand to summon a guard forward to take her away.

"Wait!" Alina exclaimed. "If you don't trust him, then trust me. I can do it. I can destroy the Fold."

The _oprichnik_ holding Baghra looked on eagerly at that news. The three Grisha knew that destroying the Fold played no part in the Darkling's intentions, but Alina needed Baghra to understand she had a plan.

Baghra gave one of her rusty laughs. "You think you can make things right, girl?"

"I know I can," Alina tried to invest her voice with as much confidence as she could. "Help me. Please."

A bitter smile twisted Baghra's lips. "Very well. But be it on your head when everything goes wrong." She turned back to the Darkling. "Do it. If you can."

Without a word, he stepped forward and held his hands to the sides of Baghra's face. A look of intense concentration crossed his own face, and Alina could see his eyes narrow as he called his power to himself.

Small wisps of shadow began to leak from Baghra's eyes. The wisps became larger tendrils, and the darkness began to form into visible wells of blackness made manifest in his waiting palms. The shadows swathing her eyes lightened more and more until suddenly the old woman's eyes were visible once more, dark but clear--looking directly into the Darkling's face and _seeing_ him.

Baghra blinked. Instead of thanking him or rejoicing at the return of her sight, she just snapped, "About time. You've gotten sloppy with your technique."

A muscle ticked in the Darkling's jaw. "Make her stronger," was all he said with one last look at Alina, and then he stalked off towards the Little Palace.

Alina stared at Baghra. "Baghra...You're alright!" She waited to see if the older woman would finally make some show of her feelings. 

Baghra just looked at her in irritation. "Do you want a hug or something, girl? Of course I'm all right. Now let's get to work."


	11. Chapter 11

"Breathe!" Baghra barked.

"I'm breathing!" Alina protested

"Then try again and show me you understand."

Alina was panting like a bellows and was mentally exhausted. Physically, on the other hand, she had never felt so alive before. It was similar to the same elated feeling it gave her after a particularly grueling run with Botkin and his students.

"I can't do it. I can't do the Cut." It had finally occurred to her that it was that particular technique that both the Darkling and Baghra were trying to teach her.

"You can. You just need the right incentive, and you know he can provide that."

Alina thought of everything and everyone she stood to lose if she didn't actually produce what the Darkling wanted. Mal, Genya, Katya, any of the other Grisha or _otkazat'sya_ that he took into his head to torture or murder outright--they would all be on her head if she couldn't do what he demanded. 

Baghra must have read the thought on her face. She nodded. "He will stop at nothing. Don't suppose he will show your friends any mercy if that is what it takes."

"But it doesn't make any sense! Why would he want me to be able to perform the Cut? I could use it to challenge him."

"You haven't thought that one through yet, eh?" Baghra rasped dryly.

"Enlighten me," Alina said, crossing her arms.

"He needs you to be able to destroy volcra. He can't do it alone, and rifles and Inferni will only go so far on the Unsea. If he's going to go out on the Fold and truly control it, he needs something or someone who can clear a path for him. You're the weapon he's been waiting for. You're the light to keep them at bay, and with the Cut you can kill them on a larger scale than he can."

"But if he destroys the volcra, there wouldn't be anything to threaten Ravka's enemies."

"I doubt he would destroy _all_ of them. Use your head, girl. And even if he did, you would still be one more show of force in his arsenal. Accept his rule, or endless darkness covers your lands. It's not just volcra awaiting anyone who experiences the Unsea. Dead crops mean dead people, don't forget."

Alina remembered the cool, dry sands of the Fold. It was a subtle horror compared to the flying monsters, but effective nonetheless. What would Ravka's rival nations do if their scarce farmland and food supplies were threatened?

Baghra sniffed. "As far as challenging him goes, I have a hard time believing someone with so little tactical experience would be able to defeat him in open combat, especially if you're on a leash."

"I'm not on a leash," Alina said irritably.

"Aren't you? How is that tracker friend of yours doing? Going about his life without a care in the world for the moment, I'm guessing. That wouldn't last very long if you tried to move against my son."

"Have I mentioned that your son is an utter bastard?"

Baghra laughed harshly. "You don't know the half of it. Now show me what you _can_ do."

Alina pushed her fear and anger to the side and focused on the one positive that had come from Baghra's lessons so far over the past weeks. She lifted a hand perpendicular to the ground, and concentrated on making a pinpoint-sized beam of light. Her control of the slim, tight beam and its concentrated heat had become so great that she could smell whiffs of smoke where it hit the pine needles littering the lakeshore. When a small flame began to lick up into the air, she stopped. 

She stamped out the small fire with a feeling of satisfaction. Let the Darkling try to counter that, she thought. His shadows and darkness had no equivalent, and she relished the idea that he would one day be powerless against the possibility of a fiery assault. Unfortunately, she doubted she could do anything with the new ability on its current scale besides making his black robes smoke and smolder, but it was a start at developing her own arsenal of fighting techniques. She hadn't seen him in over a week, but perhaps when he did finally show up again, she would be able to hold her own against him.

"Good," Baghra said approvingly. It was more praise than Alina had received from the older woman in several days, and she used the momentary goodwill between them to ask a question that had been weighing on her mind.

"Baghra...one of the Fabrikators told me the Darkling was experimenting with Ilya Morozova's journals...With _merzost_."

The older woman looked at her steadily and merely said, "We're done for today."

"Baghra. I need to destroy the Fold, otherwise this madness will never end. But how can I possibly do that if I'm not willing and able to use _merzost_? Tell me something about it. Anything."

"You want to know what it is, girl? It's something from nothing. It's the power of life over death. My son's attempts to use it tore a hole in the world itself. Do you really want to be trying to manipulate something you have no conception of? You could make it infinitely worse."

"I have to try."

Baghra grunted. "Better that you disappear for the next several centuries."

"You know he'd never stop looking for me."

Baghra sighed. "Or he would just find a Sun Summoner who would be even easier to manipulate than you are."

Alina was shocked into silence. Finally she managed, "There really are other Sun Summoners? I thought those were just rumors."

"Did you really think you were the first? That you were so special?" Baghra asked, eyeing her with a mixture of scorn and pity.

Alina blushed. That was exactly what she had thought.

"There have been others, but that was centuries ago before my son was born. You are just the first to fall into his grasp."

"What kind of abilities did they have?" Alina asked eagerly. "What kinds of things could I learn to do?"

"Well, the only one I ever met was little more than a glorified nightlight, but I've heard tell of Sun Summoners who could perform the Cut just fine. Those summoners actually practiced and had a smidgeon of talent, though."

Alina scowled at her. "Very funny, Baghra." She paused. "But none of the other Sun Summoners had Morozova's stag. I should be able to do the Cut and more."

"Some day, yes. But if you don't hurry up and learn how to use that amplifier hanging around your neck to your own advantage, then you're going to learn just what my son will do when he's ruling every land under sun and shadow." She looked like the worried mother she was for a moment. "Change his mind, Alina. If you can. Don not dabble in _merzost_, and do not allow him to become even more monstrous than he already is. Show him what I could not show him--that there is more than pride and power."

"I'll try."

"Do more than that. Promise me."

"I promise."

Baghra looked weary. "I wish I believed you." She began to walk away from Alina, leaning heavily on her cane all the while.

Alina stepped forward and caught Baghra's sleeve. "But you never told me _why_ he created the Fold."

Baghra pulled out of Alina's grasp with a sharp gesture. "And I will not be telling you that. Those are my son's secrets. They are not for me to give away." She turned back. "I will tell you this, though, Alina. Do not forget what he is. Do not _ever_ forget what he is."

Alina let her go, her thought whirring inside her head. She had so many questions and so few answers. She wanted to know why he had done it. Why he had created the Fold. What could have been so important, and what had it looked like when the world split open? As people turned into volcra. Had Baghra been there? It sounded like she might have been.

She had so much to think about as she walked back to her room in the twilight. Katya was waiting for her inside.

Taking in Alina's frazzled expression, she asked her, "Can I draw you a bath?"

"I don't think so. I just came in for some dinner. There's so much on my mind that I'll probably go for a run or practice some sparring with Botkin if he's still in the training rooms."

Katya looked hesitant, but asked her quietly, "Are you any closer to stopping him? The Darkling, I mean?"

Alina looked down at the paper on her dressing table, wishing she could be writing her thoughts down rather than hiding them from Katya. The other girl didn't need to know about _merzost_ or just how powerful and ancient the Darkling was. Or how he had seemed to lose interest in Alina. He hadn't been near her since he'd healed Baghra and left her in his mother's hands more than a week earlier. Her plans to spark his feelings would never come to fruition if the man refused to even see her. "Not yet. But I'm trying."

Katya simply nodded. Alina's heart sank. She was letting her down. She was letting them all down. Feeling forlorn at the thought, she choked down a few bites of a hearty winter stew and left for the training rooms.

The rooms were empty, and she stood facing one of the straw dummies the Grisha students used to practice attacking with fists and feet. She pulled her fist back and punched the dummy with all the force she could muster, letting all her frustration fill the blow. The dummy rocked back on its base and clattered to the floor. She stared at it morosely.

The sound of a slow clap filled the room. She whirled around and found the Darkling standing in the shadows that fell through the doorway.

"Very impressive," he said. "If I need to face a straw army, I will know who to turn to."

Alina made a face at him. "What are you doing here?" she asked before softening the question with the words, "I missed you."

He brushed off her statement. "I have a hard time believing that."

"Well, I did. I haven't seen you in forever." And she was surprised and a little horrified to realize the words were the truth. She had missed him and his cool voice, his dark laugh. Feeling as if she had lost her footing, she continued, "What did you want, then?"

"I wish to hear of your progress. Baghra was...less than forthcoming when I asked her about it. Have you perfected the Cut?"

Alina felt wary. How much should she tell him and how would he react when he heard that she had made little progress on what he wanted her to learn. "It's coming along," she said vaguely.

"Is it now?" he said with more than a little sarcasm in his voice. "Show me then." He gestured towards one of the straw dummies. 

Alina's heart sank, but she dutifully moved to stand in front of the dummy. Lifting her hand and silently uttering a prayer, she slashed her arm downward in an arc. And as usual, nothing happened beyond a bright flare of light.

The Darkling was silent. 

Alina's skin crawled. The threats were about to start, she was sure of it.

Instead he walked towards her and lifted her limp arm up into the air. "I would like to try something," he said. He raised his eyebrows as if asking for her permission.

She nodded.

He positioned her arm so that it was raised outward in front of her, palm out. "Make your sphere of light the way you did when you faced me before."

Alina thought back to their encounter in the domed hall when she had defended herself as best she could and he had shattered those defenses with a fist full of shadows. She cautiously let her light stream from her fingers and cascade up over her to create a protective bubble around her body.

The Darkling shook his head. "It is still too weak. Channel your focus. Pull the light in towards you." He looked at her intently, then. "Lock out anything else and imagine a chain with infinitely small links. Each of those links make up a part of your shield, and the links stretch over your skin."

Alina did as he commanded, pulling her light bubble inwards to rest against her skin and conjuring an image of chainmail like a knight of ancient Ravka. She'd seen such armor once, displayed on a plinth in the Grand Palace. It was a strange feeling. She wasn't used to thinking of her light in these terms. It was either on or off, waxing or waning, never with such texture and depth.

The Darkling reached out and touched her glowing skin, letting his finger tilt her head up. Alina tried not to think about how much she craved even that small amount of his touch. After a moment, he let go and stepped back, saying, "Good. Now push it out until it forms the shield you once used to make.

She obeyed, concentrating on each small link in the chain until a sphere of light again surrounded her.

"Now hold it there," the Darkling said, a smile playing over his lips. He pulled his arm back and she saw he had created the shadowy battering ram he'd used on her defensive shield before. She almost let her concentration slip away from her at the memory. 

"Focus," he snapped.

She did so, reforming the small links in her mental chains. When he pushed forward with his shadows, she was shocked and delighted to see the sphere's wall bend forward slightly rather than shattering as it had when he'd first used it on her. Although he continued to push and test the boundaries of her shield in several places, her concentration held. He was unable to break it no matter how many times he tried.

"Good," he said, and just like with Baghra, her heart soared at his praise. His eyes were alight as he stepped back from her. "Keep practicing this exercise and nothing will be able to get through. Eventually, you will be able to use this to defend yourself from even the Cut."

She felt shocked. "Why would you teach me that?"

He smiled slightly, spreading his hands. "I want us to be equals, Alina. That is all I have ever wanted." He paused, a flicker of something that was almost playful flitting through his eyes. "Now. Try to beat me."

Alina almost choked. "You want to spar with me?"

"Why not? Let us say best of three."

Although she knew she shouldn't, she matched his playfulness. "What do I get if I win?"

"Do not get ahead of yourself."

"You'd better make it worth my while," she teased.

"Hm. Alright. Whoever wins will get to decide how we spend the rest of the evening together."

She felt a hum of happiness fill her at the thought that he wanted to spend time with her. Get ahold of yourself, Alina, she thought. But nothing happened when she tried to stamp down that pathetic sense of relief from feeling wanted. Dropping into a fighting stance, she pulled her newfound shield around her and charged him without warning. He barely had time to pull his own shadows around himself before she'd attacked him.

They landed on the ground with the sounds of their breath being knocked out of them. Alina laughed after a moment and pushed up from the ground, offering the Darkling a hand so he could pull himself up to his feet.

"That was...unexpected," he said, and laughter rather than anger glinted in his eyes as he took her hand.

She beckoned him with her other hand, taunting him with the words, "I thought you were supposed to be good at this."

He arched a brow and lunged, forcing her to dance back out of the way. She tried her best to block his blows and to hold her own against him. She hadn't seen him move this way since the battle against the Fjerdan assassins on her way to Os Alta. He was all lithe grace and strength. Watching him and feeling the violent dance happening between them filled her with a wild joy.

By the time they were done, they were both sweating and laughing as they leaned up against a wall of the training rooms. Alina had the distinct feeling that he'd let her win their third round, but she intended to put the victory to good use, earned or not. Her body sang with the feeling of power rushing through her, and she felt giddy at the Darkling's closeness. At the way he seemed to have let his guard drop at least a little.

"Apparently, I am all yours. So, what would you like to do with me now?" he asked, pushing a lock of hair out of his beautiful face. A slight flush from his exertions stained his cheeks, and Alina's heart fluttered at the sight.

"More than anything?" she asked.

"More than anything."

She thought for a moment, then looked up at him. Mischief sparkled in her eyes as she said, "I want to go to the _banya_."

"The _banya_?" he asked, looking confused.

She felt giddy. "Yes. I want to go get blistering hot then fling myself in the snow like I used to do with Marie and Nadia." 

Her smile turned distinctly naughty. "And you're coming with me."


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been waiting impatiently to get to this chapter, and now it's finally here! Rating going up at long last. Enjoy, and thanks for reading :)

The Darkling stepped back from her, raising his hands in protest. "Absolutely not."

"Come on," Alina exclaimed. "It would be just the two of us. Nobody would ever need to know that the great and terrible Darkling actually had fun for once."

He looked supremely uncomfortable at the thought, and Alina loved it. "You promised," she said, pointing a finger at his chest.

"Very well," he said grudgingly, and Alina threw up her arms in triumph.

They were silent as they walked to the bathhouse, but it was a comfortable silence. There were no guards to be seen, for once, and Alina was grateful for that. The _banya_ loomed up in the darkness, a lantern hanging from its peaked roof to allow bathers to find the door easily. Smoke curled out of the chimney attached to the small building. Like the Little Palace, it too was covered in carvings of birds and deer and other beasts of the forest. 

Alina opened the door gingerly and peered inside, ready to be embarrassed if anyone was there that she might need to order to leave, but there was nobody. The _banya_ was comprised of three rooms: an inner one to sit and sweat in, a middle room where one could rinse off, and the outer room where one left one's clothes hung on hooks. Alina blushed at the thought of her daring in inviting the Darkling to this place where they would be all alone. She'd been in a small group the other time she'd been to the bathhouse. 

Her bashfulness made her clumsy as she moved behind a small screen, and it took her longer to remove her clothes than she would have thought. Wrapping herself in a fluffy towel, she took a breath and peeked around the side of the screen. The Darkling was no longer there, and for a moment she wondered if he'd used that opportunity to slip away. A hissing noise from the inner chamber alerted her to the fact that he was still there and had started the process of pouring water over the hot coals to create a cloud of luxurious steam. She blew out a breath, gathered her courage, and entered the inner rooms.

While the middle room retained the dim glow of the lanterns from the outer room, the inner room was dark but for the glow of the hot coals sitting in a small oven. Steam now filled the room to the brim, and it felt as if an insubstantial hand brushed against her when she stepped inside. She quickly took a seat on the bench closest to the door and jumped a little when she heard the Darkling's voice slide through the darkness, "I thought you had changed your mind." His voice was mild, but there was an edge to it she couldn't interpret. Looking across the short distance between them, she nearly gasped when she saw him sitting on the bench opposite her.

He also wore a towel, but it was slung low on his hips, and his chest was bare. Even in the dim glow from the coals, she could see that he was pale and his body was a wonder to behold. He was lean but muscled, the line of his arms and the place where his shoulders met the curve of his neck all unexplored territory for her eyes. She couldn't seem to tear her gaze from his chest. She wondered what it would be like to touch his smooth skin while she kissed that lush mouth. He shifted on the bench as if in response to her furtive gaze.

She had a sudden suspicion and voiced her thought. "Can you see in the dark?"

He gave a low laugh. "As if it were day."

Alina squeaked, pulling her towel tighter around herself. It was one thing to be practically naked when the other person couldn't see you. It was quite another to be completely visible and to have the other person know you had been ogling them. She felt a blush spread over her chest. 

"You look lovely," he said softly.

"Thank you," she said, still embarrassed.

"So now you have me here in the _banya_. What did you have in mind next?"

Alina's mind went blank at that. She wasn't sure. She had vague ideas of what she wanted from him, but nothing she could put into words. Trying to remember her plan to appeal to his desire for her, she released her hold on the edges of the towel and leaned back as if enjoying the steam.

She had a sense that his eyes narrowed as he watched her. Perhaps she was being transparent in her attempt to ensnare him, but she was beginning to feel excitement overtake her nervousness.

"I thought we could talk," she said as nonchalantly as she was able.

He gave a short "Hmm" in response. 

Intent on drawing him out, she said, "You've never told me anything about your time in the Second Army. If you've been every Darkling from the beginning of that title, how long have you served the kings of Ravka?"

She saw the outline of a shrug of his shoulder. 

"Do you not know your own history? I thought you were studying that alongside the Grisha theory."

Alina gave a shrug of her own, irritated that he was answering her question with a question. "To be honest, all that reading has been kind of a blur."

He sighed, his tone grudging as he said, "There has been a Second Army since before I was called the Black Heretic and long before there were Lantsovs on the throne. When the time seemed right for the Grisha to rise in power, I formed the army under the rule of King Ivan the Just."

Alina's mind boggled. Ivan the Just was a name practically out of legend he had ruled so long before. "So he was a good king, then?"

The Darkling gave an uncharacteristic snort. "He was hardly "Just" if that's what you're asking. Ravkan history tends to look back kindly on its kings unless they do something truly terrible. But he needed to solidify Ravka's place amongst the other nations at that time, so he turned to us--to the Grisha and me. For that I remember him more fondly than the others." 

"How do the current ruling family rank among all the rest you've known?"

He leaned forward balancing his elbow on his knee and resting his chin in his hand. "The Lantsovs have been easy to manipulate. Beyond that, I've seen little about them to impress me."

"Surely you had _some_ good experiences in all that time."

"I will be honest with you, Alina, and you will learn it sooner rather than later, but those who would rule the Grisha rarely deserve the honor of it. I have known a few good kings, but they were mostly bad when it came to our people. It is...difficult to respect the office when you have seen as much of it as I have." 

Alina digested this information. "So you think you could do a better job."

"I know it," he said. There was no arrogance in his voice, just a certainty that chilled Alina to her bones. "Who else has the experience of centuries behind them?"

Alina felt her mouth quirk in a smile. "Well...Baghra, if you want to be technical about it."

He laughed outright at that. "Baghra has little to no interest in doing anything that benefits anyone but herself."

"And you," Alina pointed out.

"And me," he agreed, pausing before he finished, "Although she has a misguided way of showing it."

Alina decided to press the point. "I'm glad you healed her. It was good to see you doing something so...good for a change." 

He stared at her through the steam, and the silence between them stretched. "I am not kind, Alina. Don't make the mistake of thinking I am anything close to that. Healing her brought me closer to my goals. Nothing more."

She shivered at the wintry tone of his voice.

"Now, I have answered your questions. We've talked." His voice was hard for a moment, but it softening into a teasing lilt when he asked, "What more do you want of me?"

She shifted on the bench. "I don't know," she said in a small voice.

"Ah, but I know what I want from you. Perhaps it is my turn to decide what the rest of the evening has in store."

Alina's thoughts whirled at the suggestive sound of his words. "Alright. If you want," she said almost on a whisper.

"Oh, I do," he said silkily.

Alina saw him straighten, watching her through the steam, and a tense silence stretched between them. She wondered what he was going to do. Would it be the thing she felt herself wanting despite herself--that thing she couldn't quite name? She didn't know, but she wanted to find out.

"Come here," was all he said, and his low voice rang with unmistakable command. She felt a shiver flash through her at the words and found herself standing up from the bench before she'd even fully realized she was doing it. She felt very unsure as she walked the short distance to him, and even more unsure as she stood before him. But she felt not the least hint of resistance inside her when he reached out and wrapped his hands around her waist, drawing her down onto his lap.

He held her there, so that she straddled his legs as her knees met the bench to either side of him. She brought her hands to his shoulders, not knowing what else to do with them. Reaching up, he tenderly stroked her face with his hand and drew her down into a kiss. His lips were as soft as she remembered, and she opened her mouth for him when she felt his tongue flick gently across her lips. He tasted her, and she in turn tasted him, reveling in the intimate gesture. Dimly, she registered that his hand was stroking slowly up and down her spine where it was bared above the towel.

Melting into his touch, she made a soft sound of pleasure, and his other hand tightened around her waist. He pulled back from her to look at her face, at as much of her breasts as were uncovered, and at the place between her thighs where they spread around him. Her breath caught in her chest, and her need for him was like a living thing.

Trembling a little, she allowed her hands to drift lower, stroking his chest and feeling the play of muscle there as he continued to touch her back and neck. He caught her eyes and lifted the hand that was not clutching her waist so that he could rest it on the towel's knot just below her shoulder. His voice was a deep rasp as he murmured, "Let me."

Alina nodded slowly, and he equally as slowly pulled on the knot, releasing it. She gasped as the towel slid down over her breasts to pool at her waist. She lifted her hands, feeling shy and torn between covering herself or inviting him to touch her further. He carefully took her wrists in his hands and returned them to his chest. Leaning forward, he whispered a soft, "Let me," into her ear as he began to kiss her neck with slow, open-mouthed kisses.

She nodded her permission and then realizing he wouldn't be able to see her, she gave a shaky, "Yes." A small smile curved his mouth where he held it against her neck, and he continued to ravish her with kisses, his tongue gently sweeping against her heated skin. His hand circled around her ribs to touch her breast, and she made a small sound in her throat when he began to gently squeeze and stroke his fingers across it, dragging his fingertips over her flesh in a motion that equally soothed and inflamed her. Her nipples had drawn themselves to hard points, and he took one between his thumb and forefinger, squeezing and pulling at it lightly. Her entire attention was captured by the sweet ache that radiated out from that point, filling her body with a heady sensation.

When he replaced the fingers touching her nipple with his mouth, she was unable to keep from crying out. Her hands pulled his head closer to her body, threading through his damp hair as he sucked at her. His teeth gently scraped her before he soothed the marvelous hurt with sweeps of his tongue. Everything in her body begged her to urge him on. His hand lifted the hem of her towel, bringing the fabric up to rest at her waist before finally pulling it free from her entirely and letting it drift to the floor.

His long fingers followed the line of her stomach down to the place between her legs, and she shivered despite the heat of the room. He began to run one finger over her, letting her grow used to the feel of him there before parting her so that he could touch her fully. She knew she was liquid for him, and his fingers slid easily along her slick folds. When he began to draw small circles on a spot that had her gasping from the sharp pleasure of it, he brought his mouth up to her own, capturing her sounds with his kiss.

She began to lose any sense of control as he continued to circle his fingers between her legs in a slow motion that made her mindless with want. When he began to move his fingers faster and to return his mouth to her neck, she abandoned all attempts to be quiet. Her cries filled the chamber as his fingers moved more intently, and when she began to helplessly rock her body against the hard ridge she felt jutting out from between his legs, she heard him give a muffled curse. At the sound of his voice, the sensation that had been building higher and higher exploded throughout her body. She felt her consciousness tumble over and over into insensibility as the waves of pleasure wracked through her.

As she came back to herself, he held her in his strong, solid arms, whispering soft words into her ear that she couldn't quite bring herself to try to understand. He kissed her softly when her shaking body had stilled and then lifted her up off of his lap to stand on shaky legs. The loss of his touch made her suddenly want to climb back up onto him, but she gathered her towel instead and hurriedly wrapped it around herself.

"Forgive me," he said quietly. "I don't quite trust myself when it comes to you, Alina."

She let out a shaky breath. "I'm not so sure I trust myself with you, either." After a moment of wondering why he'd stopped without taking anything for himself, she couldn't help but ask, "Are you sorry you did that? With me?"

He looked startled. "No," he said. "I am not sorry at all." Then his eyes changed to liquid flame as his gaze burned into her. "But when I have you...and I fully intend to have you...I would have it be somewhere where there is little chance of being interrupted. Where I can take my time to show you exactly what I want and teach you what _you_ want. And for that privilege, I am willing to make it very, very worth your while." 

Alina was shocked into silence at his forthright declaration, her lips forming a startled "oh." She paused and pulled her towel tighter around herself. A tremulous smile playing on her lips. "You know, Ana Kuya did always warn me about the _banya_."

"Did she?" he asked with an arched brow. "And why is that?" 

"She thought it was 'a depraved place where peasants give in to their base instincts.'"

He laughed, and the sound tightened the place low in her belly that he had stirred to life. She was insatiable, apparently, she thought with a rueful smile. 

"Why did you agree to come with me?" she asked him without warning.

A smile filled his voice as he said, "Would you be very upset with me if I said it was because I hoped this might happen?" He spread his hands, indicating their closeness to each other.

"No," she said quietly. "I wouldn't be upset."

"Besides, I wanted us to celebrate."

She gave him a questioning look.

"You came one step closer to the Cut today."

Alina's smile slipped from her face. "The Cut," she said flatly.

He cocked his head, observing her reaction. "I wanted you to learn to focus your light, and you did. Now that you can manipulate it into a solid force, it's only a matter of time until you translate that into the weapon we need."

"But I thought you were showing me how to defend myself." Alina bit her lip and tried to keep the desperation out of her voice.

"It's called killing two birds with one stone." 

She turned from him as if she meant to retrieve her clothes, when what she really wanted was to avoid having the fear and consternation on her face made visible. She needed to tell Baghra about this development and get her advice. It felt almost impossible to change the course they appeared to be on. If she learned the Cut, there was nothing to stop him from going forward with his plans at any time. "And what do you intend to do now?" she asked warily.

Strong arms wrapped around her waist before she could make her escape. "Now? Now we prepare to go to the Fold." Excitement laced his voice. He sighed and rested his chin on her shoulder, whispering in her ear, "Oh, Alina. My Alina. Everything is going to change now."

His voice sent a thrill of terror and an equally strong thrill of excitement through her body. After bestowing one final kiss on her neck, the Darkling let her go to gather her clothes.

As she dressed, Alina remembered Baghra's words from earlier that day: _Don't ever forget what he is._ That was exactly what she had done while he held her in his arms. 

She vowed never to make that mistake again.


	13. Chapter 13

"Then he said I was close to learning the Cut..." Alina trailed off, having regaled Baghra with the talk between herself and the Darkling from the previous night. She had kept the conversation strictly to the verbal portion of that evening. Baghra probably didn't need nor want to know the details of what else Alina had gotten up to with the older woman's son in the _banya_.

The two women stood within the dim, warm confines of Baghra's hut, and she looked, more than anything, as if she wanted to hit Alina over the head with her stick. "So you wanted to impress him, and you let him show you _tsep'sot_." 

"The what?" 

Baghra waved her hand impatiently. "The chain technique, girl. The chain, the net--_tsep'sot_."

"I guess so...yes."

Baghra looked like she was going to shout at Alina as per usual, but she merely bit out, "Are you trying to give him exactly what he wants? Because it seems as if that is what you are trying to do."

"I didn't think--"

"That much is clear," Baghra cut her off with a snarl.

Alina folded her arms over her chest. "What's done is done. How was I supposed to know that learning how to shield myself would lead to the Cut?"

"Maybe if you had put two and two together. For Saints' sake," Baghra barked. "The principles to the Cut and _tsep'sot_ are the same. My son and I create a solid blade with our darkness while you create one with your light. Shield...blade...they are made of the same energy. _Odinakovost_. The "thisness" of a thing making it the same as another. Have you learned no theory at all in your time here?"

Great, Alina thought. Now it wasn't just the Darkling quizzing her on theory, it was Baghra as well.

A voice came unexpectedly from the shadows next to the doorway. "Leave her be." Alina jumped at the sound of the Darkling's voice as it rumbled a warning to Baghra. How much had he heard, she wondered?

"Listening at doors, boy? I would have thought that beneath you," Baghra sniffed, although Alina thought she detected a hint of unease from the older woman. 

The Darkling ignored his mother as he glided from the door to stand before Alina. He reached up, running his thumb over her lower lip. His voice was gentle as he said, "So you would keep your power from me." 

Alina looked away.

He sighed. "I thought you might need a little motivation. Bring her," he called.

Two _oprichniki_ marched through the doorway. Alina was horrified to see one of them dragging Katya behind him. The girl looked terrified, and Alina couldn't blame her. The other guard carried one of the straw dummies from the training rooms. 

"What are you doing?" she demanded.

"What I should have done a long time ago. I gave you a chance to learn from Baghra, and you have shown me nothing for my troubles. This method will prove much more effective, I think."

Alina stared at him.

"You were a quick study with the shield," he said quietly. "Now show me the Cut."

"Let her go, and I'll try," Alina said desperately.

"I want you to do more than 'try.' Show me the Cut or I will show you how it is done on her." 

Alina gasped. "You can't!"

He didn't answer. Instead, he merely pointed towards two places next to the wall of the hut. "Put the target there, and put the girl next to it." 

The guards moved to obey while Alina stifled a shriek of frustration.

"It is simple, Alina. You already know what to do. Breathe, focus, and make the light obey your will. If you do not..." He shrugged.

Alina's breath came fast, and she stared at Katya and at the target in desperation.

"I will give you to the count of three." 

"Don't do this," Alina begged.

"One." The Darkling raised his arm in preparation for the Cut.

Alina raised a trembling arm in return.

"Two."

Katya whimpered.

"Focus, girl," Baghra called.

"Three."

Alina gathered all of her concentration, imagining the solid wall of the shield sweeping out from her in an arc. She slashed her arm through the air--

And an arc of light sped forward from her hand, cutting the straw dummy neatly in two. Alina stared at its smoking top half that now lay on the ground.

The guards released Katya's arms, and she crumpled to the floor, weeping her relief.

"Admirable," the Darkling murmured.

Alina turned towards him, wanting to spring forward, to claw at him. To make him suffer for what he had put her and Katya through.

He seemed to be indifferent to her anger. "Go," was all he said, and the guards hauled Katya back up to her feet and out the door.

At that, Alina launched herself forward. She didn't even think about what she was doing, she just cocked her arm back and threw a punch. 

Faster than she could blink, he had caught her wrist with his hand as if he’d known what she would do.

"Temper, temper," he said with a slight smile.

Alina ripped her arm out of his grasp. 

"How could you do that?" she demanded. "You could have killed her!" 

He shrugged. "She is _otkazat'sya_. Her life makes little to no difference to me."

"She's a person! That means she matters!"

"She is someone who matters to you, you mean. That is what makes her the perfect incentive. Well done, Alina."

Alina was so angry she thought she would explode. Instead, she said, "I won't do it. I don't care if I've learned the Cut. I won't be helping you. And you can't just keep dangling my friends in front of me to make me do whatever you say."

"Oh, I think that is exactly how this is going to work," he said with a smirk that made her want to punch him again. How was this the same man she had felt so close to only the night before?

He surveyed her a moment longer. "We will talk more later," he said and swept out.

Alina's legs trembled, and she put a hand out to catch herself with the wall.

"Well, now you've done it," Baghra said tartly.

"What was I supposed to do? Let him cut Katya in half?!"

"Yes!" Baghra exclaimed. "Have you never considered that the good of the many might outweigh the good of the few?"

"You're as bad as he is," Alina shouted. "All you care about is what happens to him, anyway. And what happens to you. I'm done with the both of you." With that, she stormed out of the hut and back to the Little Palace. 

As she walked, she tried to cool her temper. This was a setback, nothing more. She would find a way to change his mind, or she would have to improvise an escape on the way to the Fold. Perhaps Katya's brother Valentin would help smuggle them both out of harm’s way. Surely the _oprichnik_ wouldn't sit idly by any longer now that Katya had been directly threatened. She would just have to hope that she could get word to Mal and anyone else she could contact to tell them that they needed to disappear as well. Her Grisha friends would probably be fine, she thought, biting her lip in thought. The Darkling couldn't keep control of the Second Army if he started murdering her comrades. 

She sighed as she walked. When had she started caring for so many people? It used to be just her and Mal that she had to worry about. Now there was a veritable phalanx of loved ones that could be used against her. Not anymore though. Not if she could help it. Perhaps she would have to embrace Baghra's philosophy and choose the lives of the many she didn’t know over the few she cared about.

Alina shook her head at the thought. No. She would keep her humanity. She refused to turn into the Darkling who held everything and everyone at bay.

Alina found her room deserted. Katya probably needed some time to be alone, and Alina couldn't blame her for that. Seating herself at her dressing table, she pulled a sheet of paper and the ink pot closer to her with a rough gesture. Gathering together her anger and frustration, she began to write.

_Dear Mal, I hate him. He is a monster, and there seems like less and less chance of any kind of goodness in him that I can build on. Why am I even trying? I wish I could just run away to find you--_

Alina broke off from her writing. The Darkling had proven that the distance between them was still the width of a chasm despite the closeness of the night before. Still, calling him a monster somehow felt...wrong. Considering the note for a moment, she picked it up and consigned it to the smoldering fire in the grate. She might be a fool, but he had revealed small pieces of himself to her that made her unable to give up all hope. 

As the fire began to lick at the note, a knock sounded on the door. Alina used the poker to scrape a few coals over the burning paper, then she answered the summons. An _oprichnik_ handed her a note and abruptly turned on his heel to leave. Alina turned the piece of paper over and read the now-familiar scrolling handwriting:

_Alina, please meet me in the war room. - A_

Alina stared at the missive. He hadn't ordered her to be forcibly escorted into his presence. He'd said 'please.' He'd reminded her of the intimacy of knowing his real name. It was as if nothing had happened that afternoon. What was he up to? she thought suspiciously. There was no way to know other than by going to the war room to find out. 

When she entered the space, she saw it was much the same as the first time she'd visited it. The windowless room remained empty but for the walls covered in the intriguing maps of Ravka. Even the Darkling was still in the same posture as before. She found him sitting at the long table reading yet another of his unending reports.

"I'm here. What do you want?" she rapped out.

He laid down the sheet on the table before him. "Perhaps I just wanted to see you," he said idly.

"I seriously doubt that."

He nodded, getting to the point. "Your power grows daily. Soon we will leave for the Fold, and we should discuss what you will be doing there."

"Baghra said you need me to hunt volcra so you can expand the Fold. Neither of those things are going to happen."

He stiffened. "Baghra talks far too much. But she is not wrong. When we reach the fold, I will need your light not only to enter, but to destroy any volcra that come near me while I work."

"I won't. I will fight you the entire way," she declared.

"I assumed as much." He leaned back in his chair as he steepled his fingers. "Now, then. I would not want you to get lonely. Who shall I bring along with us? Your maid, perhaps? Or maybe your tracker friend..."

Alina stamped her foot. "You could just ask me instead of using my friends as bait!"

"I could," he agreed. "But I do not imagine that you would agree to my proposal."

"What you're offering me is not a 'proposal.' What you're offering me is your way or death."

"It is that or risk the future of our people, Alina."

"You say that, but what about all the people who will die if you expand the Fold? And don't tell me 'the good of the many outweighs the good of the few.'"

"Ah. You have been listening to Baghra, I see. And yes, that is precisely why we will be entering the Fold."

Alina decided to play the ace she had been pinning her hopes on for the past several days. "What if you didn't have to expand it. What if we reversed the process."

He crossed his arms. "And why would I do such a thing?"

She decided to press on in the face of his indifference. "Because that will prove you have ultimate power over the Fold. Only you can create it and only together can we destroy it. Just the threat of bringing it back should be enough to make your enemies take notice."

"'Should' is not 'will,' Alina. And I would not have them 'take notice.' I would destroy them." He looked at her with an unreadable expression. "I have given this more thought than you can dream of. There is no other way. You do not understand what is at stake for the Grisha if we do not act."

"So we lose our standing in the world! So the 'age of Grisha power' is over! There are worse things," she exclaimed.

"Yes. There are worse things. Much worse things. You wish to know why I would do this?"

"Besides the fact that you want to rule?"

"Besides that."

"Yes. Make me understand. Why would you turn yourself into a monster?"

He continued to regard her with his cool gaze. Finally, he spoke, his voice low. "The King plans to forge a peace treaty with the Fjerdans and the Shu Empire."

Alina blinked. Then a broad smile stretched across her face. "That's wonderful!"

His eyes grew cold. "You have not heard the terms."

Nervous excitement threaded its way through her stomach at the thought that the war might finally--finally after generations--be over.

"In accordance with the treaty, the Shu Han will offer their knowledge of science to Fjerda and Ravka. The Fjerdans will offer land in exchange. Ravka must offer something. And the King has decided that something is the Grisha."

Alina stilled, the smile dropping from her face. "What?" she asked in astonishment.

His face twisted into a humorless smile. "We are Ravka's greatest resource. If this treaty were to be signed, we would go back to being hunted and killed. The Shu would experiment on us with impunity. The Fjerdans could burn as many of us as they liked. And the rest would be sold to the Kerch for a hefty sum. A sum that would rebuild Ravka."

"But we're Ravkans, too!"

The Darkling shook his head. "The _otkazat'sya_ have never stopped fearing us. The majority of Ravka's people will rejoice at the thought that the Grisha will be a power over them no longer."

Alina fell silent. Peace. But at the cost of the Second Army? If he was telling the truth, then all of them--from small children to the few aged Grisha who survived the wars--all would be killed or worse. She knew from her time in the First Army how much mistrust and animosity were heaped onto the Grisha, but would the King actually sacrifice them in such a way?

The Darkling watched her, waiting for a reaction. She decided to ask the first question that popped into her mind. "How? How did you find this out?"

"Genya. She has been working in the Grand Palace for years. The King is...fond of her. She was able to glimpse a series of letters that spelled out what will take place."

Alina felt sick at the thought of beautiful Genya putting herself in the King's line of sight and in the way of his lecherous hands in order to spy on him. "So, when the King says he wants us to destroy the Fold..."

"He wants Ravka to be whole again, of course. Once that is accomplished, you and I will likely find ourselves at the end of a firing squad or perhaps we would meet with an unfortunate accident. Only then would our people be like lambs for the slaughter. They would fight, there is no doubt about that, but they would be helpless against the combined might of the First Army alongside the Fjerdans and the Shu. You have not seen the weapons they have been perfecting, Alina. But I have."

"So you would expand the Fold."

"Controlling the Fold means controlling everything--from the Bone Road in the north to the south past the Sikurzoi. Everything, Alina. Can you imagine it?" 

Alina could see a fire glowing in his eyes. He stood up from the table and made his way around it to stand in front of her. "And yes, I would expand the Fold. I would create other Folds. I would push it to overtake all of Fjerda and the Shu lands if I must."

"But all those people," Alina trailed off.

"I would destroy them all before I let the Grisha be murdered and turned into the refugees we once were."

Alina sucked in a breath.

He reached out to tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear. "It won't come to that, Alina. All of them will stand down in the face of our power. We will sit on the Ravkan throne together, and our people will flourish." He withdrew his hand. "Would you have it any other way? Would you put them all in danger?"

Alina let out the breath she'd been holding on a shaky sigh. "No," she said quietly. "I would save them if I could. But not at the cost of all those innocent lives. I won't help you expand it." 

A flash of anger crossed his face, contorting his beautiful features, and he opened his mouth to respond.

Alina raised a hand, forestalling his words. "But I will help you find another way. There must be something else we can do. And I will help you do that. Do you hear me? Saints forgive me, but I will help you."


	14. Chapter 14

The Darkling and Alina stared at each other, each waging a wordless argument to try to sway the other to their cause.

"There must be another way," Alina insisted for a second time.

"There isn't," The Darkling said flatly.

"Humor me. There has to be a way to stop the treaty."

He ran a hand through his black hair, making it stand up in his frustration. "This is not just about one peace treaty, Alina. This goes back long before the rise of the Second Army. You don't know what it was like for Grisha--the centuries of hate from the _otkazat'sya_. Most of us lived in hiding and when we finally came out into the open, we were tolerated only because we could help them wage their wars."

Alina's eyes widened. It was one thing to hear about Grisha history from a dusty book in the library, and quite another to talk to someone who had lived it. "It can't have always been that way."

The Darkling gave a harsh laugh. "Maybe not always, although my mother is very quiet on the subject. But once the church began to rise, we became something to be feared as 'unnatural.'" He said the word as if the bitterness of it galled him. "They called me the Black Heretic because I thought we should rise up against the church, against the petty kings, against all who would keep us bound in misery."

"And that's why you created the Fold?" Alina asked softly.

He was silent at that. Finally, he said, "I created the Fold when I tried to take Morozova's experiments to their logical conclusions. I created a weapon that would destroy our enemies and put a Grisha on the throne. What I did not anticipate were the volcra. I almost did not escape them in the end." His mouth twisted in a bitter smile, and his voice held an ironic edge as he said, "And for all my trouble, our people were feared more than ever, and the useless kings kept an even closer eye on us. But that failure made me stronger. And I won't fail again." 

Alina shook her head. "I don't understand you. You say you want a land where Grisha can be safe, but none of that matters if you forge that land on the bodies of the innocent dead. Let me kill the volcra. Show me how to destroy the Fold. Then together we can find a way for our people to live in peace."

The Darkling stepped closer and cupped Alina's face in his hands. "Alina," he said. Then he leaned down and brushed her lips with his own. Her heart lit up at the thought that she might have won--that she might have convinced him.

But he drew away from her with a sigh. "You are far too optimistic. It is an admirable quality, but not one that will help us win a war."

"We're not _at_ war."

"We will be soon enough." 

Alina's heart sank at the hard note of resolution in his voice. 

The Darkling returned to his place at the table, dismissing her and her efforts by drawing one of the reports into his hand and lifting it to his face to read. "We leave for the Fold in a few days' time," he said. "See that you practice the Cut until you perfect it. You will meet with David Kostyk tomorrow to discuss how to use a new tool he has invented. That will be all." 

Feeling utterly dismissed, she turned from him and stalked to the door.

"And Alina..."

She waited.

"It should go without saying that if I were to find out that someone had told the King about anything I have mentioned, that person would be very, very sorry."

Alina stared at the floor. "I'm not going to tell anyone about this."

"I am glad to hear it."

"Are we done?" she bit out.

"We are done."

And with that, Alina swept out of the room and into the outer chamber. But when she closed the door, she stopped to lean her back against it. Saints. Everything had just become more complicated than ever.

But she would work, she would train, and she would find a way to save not just the Grisha but also everyone else even if it killed her. 

And it sounded like that fate may definitely be a possibility.

\--------------

The next morning, word of a mysterious sickness begins to spread throughout the upper half of Os Alta. Katya informed Alina of the situation. "Everyone at the Grand Palace is terrified. The doctors can't seem to figure out where it started or even how it's being spread.

Alina thought the timing was awfully convenient that the Darkling planned to move against the King and now suddenly a suitable distraction was at hand.

"Has anyone died?" she asked. A cold hand gripped her heart at the thought of _otkazat'sya_ casualties sacrificed for the sake of the Grisha. She had said she would keep silent about the Darkling's intentions, but her willingness not to say anything hinged on the fact that she wanted to prevent deaths from taking place.

"Not yet," Katya said. "Right now, the main symptoms are just a fever and a hacking cough. Nobody can get out of bed. It's strange, though," she mused. "The only people stricken with the illness are in the prime of their life. Children and the old haven't been affected at all." 

Alina nodded as a wave of relief filled her at those words. She wondered how he was distributing whatever it was that he'd created so that it only targeted those who could stand against him. It still felt wrong, but for the moment the Darkling could keep his secrets so long as no lasting damage was done.

Katya finished up her tidying, saying, "For once, I'm glad my aunt and my little brother live in lower Os Alta." She paused. "Do you need anything else?"

Alina shook her head, still deep in thought. "No, thank you, though." As the maid left the room, Alina wondered what would happen to the girl when the Grisha left for the Fold. Would the Darkling follow through with what he had hinted at? Bringing Katya along to the Unsea would be a way to force Alina to do his bidding. But maybe she could convince him that he didn't need to resort to threats to secure her help. 

The time had come for her to visit the Fabrikators' workshop to meet with David. She hadn't seen him since the night he fused the collar around her throat, and she wondered what he had created to aid the Darkling in his plans.

Light streamed in through the workshop's tall windows. Walking down the aisles toward the back of the room, Alina found David at his usual bench in the hall of the Durasts. He was completely absorbed in his work, and when Alina approached him, she had to clear her throat to get him to notice that she was even there.

He looked up. "Oh. You're here," he said abruptly.

"Hello, David," Alina said, shaking her head. If he could ignore Genya and her substantial charms, then there was no use being bothered at his lack of manners or lack of interest in anything that wasn't related to his projects.

"How did the mirrored gloves work?" he asked.

"Very well," Alina assured him.

A smile broke out on his face, changing it entirely from studious to radiant. Now she understood part of the appeal for Genya. He was remarkably handsome when he wasn't furrowing his brows in concentration.

"So what have you made for me now?" she asked, curious at what she saw before her on his table.

David held up what he'd been working on. It appeared to be a glass lens attached to a metal housing with straps that suggested it was meant to be worn.

"Here," he said. "Put this on."

Alina gingerly took the contraption from him and looked through the lens, raising it to her eyes to see what was so special about it. She almost dropped it when she glanced into it and saw the far wall come into brilliant focus as if she stood with her nose almost pressed against it. "It makes things bigger," she exclaimed.

David nodded. "Shaping the glass this way means that when you channel your power towards it, the light will become a cone with a focused point. When it shines through the glass, a light beam will form at a substantial temperature."

His words mystified her, but she admitted to him, "I'm already able to focus my light enough to make it scorch things." That was one more power she'd tried to keep from the Darkling. If it helped to destroy the Fold, though, she was willing to reveal her new technique.

David perked up at that. "This will make whatever you produce a thousand times more powerful. I'll modify it so the metal surrounding it has a higher melting point." He went on to babble numbers and terminology at her in his excitement, although she had no earthly idea what he was talking about. As he prattled on, he adjusted the straps around Alina's arm so that the lens rested in her palm.

"So, I won't be able to just blind the volcra...," she broke in.

He didn't seem to mind the interruption, and instead he finished her sentence, saying, "You'd be able to burn them and anything else in your path." He thought for a moment. "You might be able to cut them in half. I haven't tried it fully yet."

Alina felt a little sick at the thought. The volcra were monsters who had almost killed both her and Mal, but she was not embarrassed at being squeamish about inflicting horrible deaths on the creatures.

"David," she said, trying to form the right words. "What do you think I'm going to use this for?"

David blinked. "I was told you needed it to help the Darkling destroy the Fold."

So the Darkling hadn't told anyone about his plans to expand and control the Fold. She continued, "Do you know anything about the sickness spreading through the Grand Palace?"

He looked confused. "There's sickness at the Grand Palace?" His voice was faint as he asked the question, and he was already looking longingly at his desk now that they had finished discussing his device.

Alina sighed. "Goodbye, David. And thank you."

David waved a hand at her in a distracted fashion since he was already sitting back on his bench and holding the contraption up to the light.

As she left the Durasts' work space, she noticed the door to the Alkemists' area had been left open. Peering inside, she saw that these Grisha were also hard at work. The Alkemi experimented with blasting powders and poisons--the chemical components of the small science as opposed to the Durasts. Alina shivered as she watched them, wondering if their poisons were affecting the people of Os Alta at that very moment.

After creeping away from the door so as not to be noticed, she walked through the vast domed hall and wondered where she would go next. To the training rooms? To visit Baghra? It felt so strange to be able to make her own decisions now that she appeared to have the relative freedom of the Little Palace. High-pitched voices interrupted her thoughts, and she looked around to see that a large, colorful group had gathered around the main entrance.

She stopped, staring. They were children. She hadn't seen much of the Grisha schoolchildren before, probably because they had their own dormitories and dining hall. But now they were milling about, talking, laughing, and shoving each other or running and weaving amongst their fellows. They looked like they ranged from a few years younger than her to tiny children of five or six. A small girl bobbing through the crowd turned and saw Alina watching them. Recognizing Alina's black _kefta_, she gave a squeak of surprise then walked straight up to her. 

"You're the Sun Summoner," the little girl declared in a piping voice.

Alina nodded, a smile on her face. 

"Will you make some light?" the girl asked.

With that, Alina lifted her hand and let a bright flash of light wash over the tiny Grisha's face, lighting up her hair and warming her. The girl shrieked with laughter and excitement. 

Other children began to gather, whispering and pointing at her. A few more came closer and began to pepper her with questions and observations. 

"How much light can you make?” 

“Do you know the Darkling?” 

“Your _kefta_ is pretty!" 

Alina hadn't spent time around children for years, but she quickly fell back into the ease of talking with them from her time at Keramzin where she'd watched and entertained her fair share of young orphans.

One of the teachers called the children back to order, and they reluctantly left with calls and waves of farewell. She watched them file through the door until they were gone. Where were they going? she wondered. Before she could go to investigate, she felt a tingling between her shoulder blades as if someone was watching her. Turning, she saw the Darkling standing in the doorway to his chambers. His beautiful face was impassive, but she plucked up her courage and went to meet him anyway. 

"Where are the children going?" she asked without preamble.

"I'm sending them away from the Little Palace. There is a plague spreading, in case you had not heard."

Was that a hint of a satisfied smile on his face? Alina's eyes narrowed.

"What exactly have you done?"

"Only what I must, Alina. The Grisha have to leave the Little Palace before we make for the Fold. The children will go to the one place nobody will think of looking."

"And where is that?"

The Darkling's mouth did quirk up this time. "Keramzin."

"What?" Alina asked, startled.

"I should thank you. It was you who gave me the idea. Where better than a place prepared to take an influx of young students? The Duke was more than happy to accept a large donation in exchange for his silence on the matter. And your Ana Kuya was very accommodating when I wrote to her asking her to take charge of all of them. Don't worry," he said, his smile becoming a smirk. "I did not mention anything about bath houses."

Alina blushed at the thought of the old matron's reaction if he had told her about their time in the _banya_ together. She refused to be distracted from her questions, though. 

"You said you want the Grisha to leave. How do you propose to do that without alerting everyone in the Grand Palace to the fact that every Grisha has been evacuated?”

"You will just have to wait and see."

Alina huffed in irritation.

The Darkling was quiet for a long moment. "You are very good with children," he said finally.

Alina shrugged, a little thrown by the change in topic. "There's not much to it. You just have to talk to them like they're regular people. Didn't you hate it when adults talked down to you when you were a child?

"I would not know. I was never given the opportunity to be around enough people to form an impression." 

Alina could imagine it. A young boy isolated by having to hide his power. Never forming attachments, never feeling like he belonged. The thought sent a small pang through her heart. At least she had been able to keep Mal close for a time when she was young. “But you had Baghra," she said uncertainly.

"Yes. She certainly never talked down to me. Quite the opposite." 

"It sounds as if she tried to protect you." Alina paused. "I think she loves you more than just about anything."

The Darkling inclined his head. "Perhaps. In her own way. Although, as you can imagine, Baghra's idea of motherhood has never been of the doting variety."

Alina tried to think of a response that would encourage him to continue being open with her, but she was interrupted when the Darkling looked over her shoulder with a sharp expression. She turned, trying to see what he was looking at.

It was Genya.

Alina gave a small cry and ran to her friend. The Tailor's face was ashen, her red hair hanging lank around her face, and she was visibly sweating. Her cracked lips were pale, and she staggered as she approached the Darkling.

He looked at her sternly. "Is it done?"

She gave a small gasp as if in pain. "It's done."

"Come with me, then." The Darkling turned on his heel and Genya began to follow him towards his quarters. 

Alina hurried after them. She may have been angry with her friend, but she was also intensely worried for her. Grisha didn't get sick. There was no reason she should look as awful as she did. Genya walked behind the Darkling as he entered his private chamber, and Alina slipped through the door before it shut behind them.

The Darkling barely spared Alina a glance. "Sit," he said to the Tailor. She sat in the chair closest to the door. Genya began to cough, and when she stopped, Alina was horrified to see a spot of blood had stained her friend's white _kefta_.

"Do they suspect anything? the Darkling asked cryptically.

"Nothing," Genya gasped.

He nodded at that, and opened a drawer of his desk. He took out a small bottle and handed it to Genya. She unstopped it and drank it down in one swallow, closing her eyes as she did so. Her labored breathing began to slow.

Alina stared at her. "Are you alright, Genya?" she asked quietly.

"She will be fine," the Darkling answered.

Alina whirled on him. "What did you just give her?"

"An antidote."

"An antidote to what? What is going on?" Alina demanded.

Genya spoke up at last. "I needed to infect the King," she rasped.

"You what?!" Alina was horrified once more at the thought of what would happen to them if their treason was discovered. "How? And why?"

"So many questions," the Darkling murmured.

"An Alkemi put a powerful chemical in my lipstick," Genya said quietly. 

Alina fell silent at that. The lengths her friend would go to in order to aid the Darkling... Suddenly Alina was very angry. She wanted to rage at him. "How could you have asked her to do this?"

"We needed to strike the first blow in this war,” the Darkling replied dispassionately. If the King were to be incapacitated, it would throw the palace into chaos. Genya knows what we need to do to secure a victory." He gave the Tailor an appraising look. "You have done well, and you will be duly rewarded for it." 

Genya inclined her head and rose to leave. Alina followed her, but not before throwing the words back over her shoulder, "I won't forget this."

"See that you don't," was his only response.

Alina scowled and took Genya's arm. As she guided her friend through the domed hall, she was lost in thought. Everything was about to change. The Darkling had fired the first shot. 

The war was on.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moving into a new phase of the story with this chapter :) Thanks for reading!

It was just as the Darkling had hoped. News that the King had been felled by the sickness threw the palace into upheaval the next day. And the disease was spreading faster than ever. Alina could only assume that the Darkling had arranged for an Alkemi substance to be put into circulation somehow. For all she knew, it could be in the tea the nobles drank or the brandy that had been consumed at their fine parties.

Regardless, the Darkling had sent word to her in the form of another one of his maddening notes that simply said, "Pack your things. We leave tonight." She didn't know what to tell Katya other than that they were going to the Fold. Alina's heart sank when Katya entered the room, her face aglow.

"I'm to go with you to the Fold," she said. "It's so exciting! I'll be able to be there to see you destroy it. It's an honor that I get to come along. So few of us servants were invited."

Alina didn't know what to say in response to Katya's happiness. She couldn't explain that the girl was really going with them to be leverage over Alina to make sure she followed the Darkling's orders to the letter. Instead, she just nodded and tried to muster a smile.

"How many of your _kefta_ should I pack?" Katya mused.

"I'm not sure." Alina said. She had no idea how long they would be gone from the Little Palace. Maybe forever since there might be no coming back from what the Darkling planned. On that grim thought, she decided to take a long walk to clear her head.

"I'll be back in a while," she told the maid, who nodded absently as she opened the door to Alina's wardrobe and began to count the garments inside. A guard still stood outside her door--the Darkling had been true to his word about never letting her be without one if he could help it. She had almost grown used to them shadowing her to the lake and beyond when she ventured outside. He nodded to her in a gesture that was almost friendly. Would wonders never cease, she thought. 

There were few Grisha in the domed hall when Alina went inside it to share a meal. The food may have been the same disgusting combination of herring and rye bread that it always was, but she was so starved for companionship over the last few weeks that she would choke it down in order to sit with her friends. As she watched, a few Corporalniks got up from their table and left the hall. They carried satchels, and Alina was under the impression that they would not be returning. 

She wondered if the guards at the gates to Os Alta had been bribed to let them through. Maybe there was a secret passage for all she knew. She wouldn't put anything past the Darkling.

Marie and Nadia were nowhere to be seen. Perhaps they had already packed their own satchels and made for the Fold. Sighing, Alina left a piece of rye bread half-eaten and rose from her bench to try to find someone to talk to about what was going on.

As she walked up to it, Baghra's hut looked the same as it always did with its chimney letting off a cloud of smoke that billowed in the cold air. Alina knocked on the door and stepped inside, closing the door before Baghra could complain that she was letting out the heat. But Baghra wasn't there. Alina sighed as she looked around. The older woman must have evacuated with the others. For some reason, Alina missed her all of a sudden, and Alina wondered how the her teacher would fare on the road with the other Grisha. 

Abandoning the hut's hot and stuffy darkness, she realized how few places there really were for her to go. Standing at the lake shore, she looked out at the small, lonely island in its center. Marie and Nadia had regaled her with stories about contests held in the summer to see who could swim to the island the fastest. Alina put her back to the lake and gazed out at the Little Palace and the buildings and trees that surrounded it.

She would miss this place that had begun to feel like home despite the trials of the previous weeks. Alina walked slowly back to her room, consumed with her thoughts about what would happen when they reached the Fold. She had agreed to help the Darkling, but she still didn't know what exactly that meant. Would she kill the volcra? Would he let her at least try to find another way to save their people and destroy the Fold in one stroke? It was impossible to say at this moment and she finally had to let it go.

On entering her room, Alina was surprised to find Katya sitting at the dressing table as if the maid were waiting for her. "What is it?" Alina asked quickly, wondering what else was in store for her.

In answer, Katya held up a thick stack of notes bound with a hair ribbon.

Alina's face paled. She hadn't even thought about Katya going through her summer _kefta_ pockets in order to tidy up. All she could think of to say was, "Did you read them?"

Katya looked abashed and afraid, and Alina's stomach filled with butterflies when the other girl said, "Only the one on top."

That would be the most recent note. The one from the previous evening where she’d laid out what the Darkling planned to do and what she thought of those plans. "What are you going to do with what you found?" she asked.

"I don't know," Katya admitted quietly.

"Please don't do anything rash," Alina begged. "The Darkling has said he'll kill anyone who goes to the King."

Katya shook her head. "I don't think they would even listen to me. I'm just a servant."

Alina doubted that they would hear the girl at the moment, but someone would take notice once some of the panic at the palace died down. How could she have let this happen? The Grisha's very chance at survival now rested in the maid's hands. Drawing herself up, Alina stamped down any feelings of unease about what she was about to do. She tried to look as cold as possible, and she made her voice hard. "You're coming with me to the Fold as planned. The guards will escort you to pack your things, and if you try to get word to the Grand Palace, I'll tell the Darkling." 

Katya stared at Alina as she shrank back in the chair away from her.

Alina felt as if another small part of her was dying--just as it had when she'd killed Morozova's stag, but there was no other choice. She wouldn't really go to the Darkling. She would find another way if it came to that, but she couldn't play games with the lives of so many people. The thought of the children came into her mind, and she punctuated her words with a wave of light that lit up the room. "Do we understand each other?"

She knew she sounded like the Darkling himself when she uttered those words. The thought terrified her. Nevertheless, her voice retained its steely note as she said, "Give me the letters."

Katya handed them over, although she was trembling so much that she almost dropped them.

If Alina was smart, she would burn them here and now, but she couldn't bear the thought of destroying them. The notes had become her refuge, and they felt like a kind of diary where she could pour out her soul. They also stood as a stark reminder of why she couldn't put her trust completely in the Darkling. She slid the letters into her _kefta_ and walked to the door. The same guard from earlier still stood outside. "Please escort my maid to her room and stay there while she packs," Alina said curtly. 

He didn't question her request. He just snapped to attention. "_Da_. It will be done," he said in response. Katya wouldn't even meet Alina's eyes as she left the chambers, and Alina’s heart ached at the sight. There went one more friendship sacrificed for the sake of that friend's or another’s safety. How much lying and hiding her emotions would she have to do to save them all in the future? Soon she wouldn't have anyone left who wasn't angry with her or fearful of her. 

Was this how lonely the Darkling felt? she wondered. The thought shocked her. She wasn't supposed to be wasting her pity on the Darkling. He wouldn't want it, and he certainly didn't deserve it. But as she stared out the window, unseeing, she couldn't help but feel as if he was becoming the one person who might understand her. Just as he'd always said he was.

Trying to shake those thoughts free of her mind, Alina finished packing her small trunk. There wasn't much to it besides her stack of _kefta_ and the items from her dressing table. She'd never been one for collecting things, and she wondered what the Darkling would bring with him. Would his books, the things he obviously cared about most, be included? Or perhaps only his favorite small volume of folk tales.

A knock sounded on the door, and Genya entered. Alina stared at her. The Tailor was back to being as beautiful as ever. It was as if the previous night's illness had never affected her. Moreover, she wore the red _kefta_ of the Corporalki, although Alina had never seen anyone else wear the blue embroidery that decorated the cuffs and hem. She had also never seen the kind of pride that rested on Genya's usually calm face. 

"Genya...you're alright!” Alina exclaimed.

The Tailor nodded. "It was a rough night, but I'm good as new," she said, spreading her hands to encompass her body. "Better than new," she said as she straightened one of the cuffs of her _kefta_.

"Was what you did worth it to be able to wear that?" Alina asked dubiously.

"Absolutely. Poisoning the King may have been the happiest moment of my life," Genya said with a vicious smile.

"So you're not sorry?" Alina asked, curious that Genya would be so casual about an act of treason that could mean her death.

"Sorry? How could I be sorry? That man has done horrible things. He's abused countless women and girls." Her friend shook her head vehemently. "No. I'll never be sorry for what he'll endure now."

"Aren't the effects of the sickness temporary?"

"For everyone else? Yes. But not for the King. He received something extra special." The grim smile on Genya's face made Alina uneasy, but she couldn't blame her friend for taking pleasure in her vengeance. If Alina were in her shoes, she would have done the same thing with a song in her heart. 

"I would have expected you to be gone," Alina said.

Genya nodded. "I'm leaving in a little over an hour from now along with David. Someone has to pull him away from his workbench. I wanted to see you before I left so I could thank you."

"Thank me? For what?"

"For allying yourself with the Darkling, of course!" Genya exclaimed.

Alina stared at her. "Genya. I'm not following him. I refuse to go along with what he wants."

"But you're helping save the Grisha. That's what matters."

Alina nodded. "That I will do. We just...disagree on our methods." That was an understatement, she thought.

Genya nodded. "Take care of yourself, Alina. I'm not just saying that as someone who wants you to save us. I'm saying that as your friend."

Finally. A friend who wasn't turning away from her in fear and mistrust. It felt good to be accepted for who and what she was. Feeling impulsive, Alina reached out and hugged Genya tightly. "You take care of yourself, too. From one friend to another."

Smiling, Genya returned her hug. After the Tailor left, Alina closed the lid of her trunk and sat down on top of it, contemplating the road ahead of her. It couldn't be much longer before she herself would be leaving the Little Palace, and the thought was bittersweet. Maybe she would see its domed roof and fanciful carvings again one day in the future if the Darkling did indeed pull off his plans, whatever they were.

Curious about what was happening with the rest of the Grisha, she returned to the great hall. Not a soul was in sight, and she lingered near the Darkling's table, wondering if he would come for her. As if the thought had summoned him, he appeared in the door to his quarters. He tilted his head towards the door to the courtyard, and she silently joined him, walking through the door behind him and giving the domed hall one last look. 

It felt strangely companionable as they walked down the cobblestoned path and under the trees. When had it begun to feel this comfortable with him, she wondered. 

He breached the silence to say, "I gave an order for your maid to be taken by carriage to the Fold along with your things. Imagine my surprise to find her already under guard." He turned his head, eyeing her. "Care to tell me why?"

Alina inwardly squirmed under his gaze. "Not really," she said. The packet of notes felt like it was burning a hole inside her pocket.

Miraculously, he left the topic alone, only saying coolly, "I will trust that you have your reasons, then." He continued, and her relief was short lived. "Should you try to escape before we reach the Fold, I have left orders that those who have been watching your friends must kill them. Think carefully before you squander their lives."

"You wouldn't hurt Grisha," she scoffed with more assurance in her voice than she really felt when she thought about Genya, Marie, and Nadia.

"Oh, but I would," his cool voice retorted. "For this I would sacrifice anything."

At that, Alina fell silent. She hadn't really been thinking of running for the hills lately with any kind of seriousness, but his words squashed the few stirrings of the plans that had begun to rise in her. 

Lost in her thoughts, she almost didn't notice that they had entered a clearing. Through the light of the moon, Alina could see two saddled horses whose bridles were tied to tree branches. One of the horses had a coat so black that it was hard to see it in the gloom, while the other was a beautiful bay. Coming closer to the animals, Alina stroked the bay's nose and admired its russet hide and black stockings.

The Darkling stepped near, untying the horses' bridles from the tree branches. "Do you need a leg up?" he asked.

Alina nodded. He leaned forward, offering his cupped hands for her to put her foot inside. With the slightest of efforts, he heaved her up so that she sat astride the horse. As Alina took the reins, he vaulted atop his own midnight-colored mount. They eased forward, letting the horses find their way through the trees. The snowy ground muffled the sound of their hooves, and it wasn't long before they left the Little Palace behind.

When she turned her head to look over her shoulder, Alina could see the lights of the Grand Palace blazing. Her imagination supplied the images of what must be happening inside--the servants rushing between rooms, the nobles swooning in their beds, the panic that the King might not recover. She felt no sympathy for any of them, except for the servants, and at least they wouldn't be affected by the Alkemi poisons.

Alina followed the Darkling to a gate that was much smaller than the grand gates she'd entered when she first came to Os Alta. Two guards watched this exit from the city, and they nodded at the Darkling as he rode by. Alina hurried after him, urging her horse on, and the soft sound of the gate closing resonated in her ears. 

They were free.

Alina lost track of time as they rode down the broad stretch of the Vy, the hours drifting by like the flakes of snow eddying around them. She was grateful for the Darkling's ability to see in the dark, as it made their journey much easier than it could have been. Her horse plodded after his, and she watched the back of his head. He rode straight and tall in the saddle, seeming to never tire. Alina on the other hand, began to flag as the moon traveled across the sky. 

In an attempt to stay awake, she touched her horse's sides with her heels so that it trotted forward to stay apace with the Darkling's mount. She cleared her throat. 

"How long will it take us to reach the Fold?"

"Around three days if we push the horses."

Three days. Three days until she had to don David's invention and fight the volcra. Alina felt overwhelmed at the thought. It wouldn't be much longer after that before she might have to make a final stand against the Darkling if she couldn’t make him see reason regarding the Fold. She had the tools to make that stand now between the Cut and her light shield, but the thought still sent a flutter of nervousness through her stomach. 

"And once we reach the Fold?" she asked, dreading his answer.

"We will enter it, and while you subdue the volcra, I will use my power to push the borders past Novokribirsk and towards the True Sea. The effect will ripple through Fjerda and the Shu Empire, and will throw each nation into chaos. Once that is over, we ride to Velikiy Most." 

Alina knew of the city that spanned both sides of the great bridge that crossed the river Potok. "And then?"

"Then we will wait for ambassadors to arrive and I will sign a treaty--a real treaty. After that?" he shrugged. "We rule."

The surety of his voice chilled her more than the wind whipping through the air. He'd had so much time to plan this takeover. She had no doubt that he could actually make it happen. 

She spoke up. "What if you didn't, though. What if we found a land across the True Sea? Somewhere near the Southern Colonies where we would still be free of the wars?"

The Darkling's voice was sharp as he answered, "No. I would not force our people to leave their homeland. Better that we risk everything and take Ravka than lose our way of life."

"But you said it yourself when we first met. You didn't have to gather the Grisha from other nations. They came to you because you could protect them. They will all follow us if we give them a place to be safe." She tried not to think too hard about the fact that she was now using the words 'we' and 'us' when she spoke to him.

He shook his head "Enough. I refuse to run. We deserve this land as much as the _otkazat'sya._ More so, perhaps, based on how they have squandered it." __

_ __ _

_ __ _

Alina gave a cry of frustration. "They want the wars to end as much as the Grisha. Why not form a nation where we can live together in harmony?" 

The Darkling snorted. "How idealistic of you." 

She tried to focus on the fact that he hadn't said an outright 'no' to the idea. "Wouldn't you rather rule your own land? Help me destroy the Fold, and we can create something new in its place." The idea struck her as one that could work. It would be risky, and it would mean meddling with _merzost_ in exactly the way Baghra had warned her not to. But if it could be done. 

The Darkling paused before answering. "It bears thinking on," he admitted to Alina's elation. "But we do not have the time to debate it now. Better that we force our enemies' hands first and capture the high ground." 

Alina's face fell. Then he turned his head to look at her. 

"In either case, we must kill the volcra first. Concentrate on that, and we will discuss your ideas later." 

She felt as if he were putting her off, but it was true: if they were to create a new land where the Unsea now stood, she would have to destroy the monsters that inhabited the Fold first. 

Looking straight ahead, Alina felt the first spark of hope that she'd had in weeks. It made her shoulders feel lighter. It made the darkness seem less ominous. All she had to do now was remain strong and she would grab on tightly to the small victory of holding her own with him. 

Because in the end, this victory might just turn the tide. 


	16. Chapter 16

They rode for what felt like forever, stopping when they absolutely had to in order to rest the horses. Alina’s surprise when they arrived at the first inn was evident. "We're stopping!" she exclaimed with a mixture of relief and confusion. The Darkling didn't say anything in response. No surprise there, she thought irritably. He had practically ignored her for the entirety of their first day's ride. She didn't know if his aloofness was because he had a lot on his mind or if he had just grown tired of her incessant questions. To be fair, her questions had been legion up until that point: "What will you do to expand the Fold?" "How do we know David's device will really work?" "What if we're just food for the volcra?" "Are you ever going to answer me?!"

His answer to that final request was a simple, quelling "No." Alina had decided not to press her luck, and she reined in her bay mare with a frustrated sigh until it trotted behind his black stallion.

Now, she found herself sliding off her horse's back to stand with stiff and shaking legs on ground covered in packed snow. A stablehand approached, and the Darkling handed off his horse. The man’s eyes went wide and he gingerly took the reins from the Darkling, careful to not touch him. When the stablehand turned to Alina, his head jerked in surprise. She resisted the urge to give a weary laugh. Even seeing a tired and bedraggled Sun Summoner must have been a significant event. 

Alina followed the Darkling to the tavern nearby, and they entered the bustling common room. Inside, the windows were fogged with warmth, and the glow of several lanterns shone on a room of packed bodies. Heads began to turn to see who the new arrivals might be as the cold wind at their backs blew in through the door. Silence began to stretch like a wave over the entire room as people froze in place, some with mugs halfway to their mouths when they recognized Alina and the Darkling in their matching _kefta_ as they removed their cloaks in the room’s heat.

A few of the tavern folk surreptitiously made signs to ward against evil as they stared at the Darkling. Thankfully, he ignored them and talked instead in a low voice to a hesitant innkeeper who had approached as soon as he noticed the pair. But it was not only fear radiating out from the room. There were others whose faces turned hopeful as they looked at Alina. It was a sobering reminder that these people and the majority of Ravka thought she was going to save them from the Fold and their enemies--from war and poverty and starvation, even. 

She felt a hand on her arm, and her head snapped away from the inn's denizens to see that the Darkling had arranged their lodging. "This way, if you please," said the innkeeper, bobbing a deferential bow. The Darkling nodded and Alina followed along, taking up the rear of the small procession. A fleeting thought sped through her mind as they climbed the stairs. Would she be sharing a room with the Darkling? The thought of climbing into a bed and having her body warmed by his sent a trill of nervousness and something like anticipation through her as she thought of his strong arms and soft mouth. She wasn't sure if she would be able to resist whatever temptations he presented to her. She wasn't sure that she even wanted to resist.

The innkeeper unlocked a door and gestured Alina inside with the words, "_Moya ledi_." She felt a distressing sense of disappointment when he unlocked the door next to it and offered it to the Darkling. Don't be an idiot, she thought to herself. Of course it's better this way.

Once the door had closed, Alina stood stock still inside the room as a wave of weariness crashed over her. She felt bone tired, and barely had the energy to wash her hands and face. Stripping to her smallclothes, she left her other garments that smelled distinctly of horse scattered over the floor in a way that would have distressed both Katya and Ana Kuya, Then she found herself falling into a straw-filled mattress, and in moments sleep overtook her. 

Alina slept like the dead. When she awoke to a steady knocking on the door, she lifted her head from the pillow to look around in confusion. Still muzzy with sleep, she heard the words she most wanted to hear in all the world. "Breakfast," a woman's voice called from behind the door. 

Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she wrapped a sheet around herself to preserve at least a little modesty and opened the door to find a girl not much older than herself. The girl carried a small tray filled with a steaming pot of tea alongside dishes that held a generous helping of fried eggs and buttered toast. Alina felt her mouth begin to water at the sight and the luscious smell. She stepped out of the way to let the maid in, and the girl put the breakfast down on a small table. After giving Alina a nod and a smile, she turned to leave. Alina needed no encouragement to sit down at the table, and she began to shovel the food into her face with blissful abandon.

A small squeak made her look up towards the door. The maid had turned to go but the Darkling now stood in the entrance to the room. Giving a hasty curtsy, the girl edged around him and shut the door behind her. 

Alina looked down at herself, blushing at the realization that she was practically naked in front of him. Again. 

One of his eyebrows lifted as she set down the piece of toast that had been halfway to her mouth. "Don't stop on my account," he said dryly.

Alina ignored him. "I'm almost ready to go."

"Take your time. We're ahead of schedule and will reach the Fold by the end of the day." He sat down in the chair across from hers, stretching his legs out in front of him, and crossing his ankles.

Alina felt a little embarrassed, but she turned back to her fried eggs, nibbling at them with a little more self-restraint this time.

The Darkling watched her, although he finally opened his mouth to say, "You have questions."

Alina nodded. The most pressing question regarding their safety had begun to weigh on her mind. "Do you think the palace has noticed all the Grisha are gone by now?"

He nodded. "Undoubtedly. But without the ministers and generals to put together an armed force to follow us, we will be fine until we reach the Unsea. Once we arrive, we will test out the Fabrikator's device, and after that we will enter the Fold in earnest."

"Then you'll use _merzost_," Alina said with trepidation.

He nodded. "How much did Baghra tell you of it?"

"Only that you shouldn't be meddling with it."

"I don't 'meddle,'” he said with a frown. “I used it successfully once, and I will do it again."

"But what if you can't control it? What if you destroy everything and everyone? Baghra says--"

The Darkling waved his hand impatiently. "Baghra like to think she knows everything, but she does not."

"Have you thought any more about my proposal?"

"To create a new kingdom?" He gave her a considering look. "Your idea is an interesting one, but not nearly as foolproof as mine."

"But the gains to be had from it if I'm right!" she exclaimed. "I could destroy the volcra and drive out the darkness. You could push a border to the True Sea and the Grisha could guard it. Together we would make something from nothing--a home for all of us, _otkazat'sya_ and Grisha alike!" 

He crossed his arms. "Ah. So now you think _merzost_ is a good idea so long as it is you who decides how it will be used."

Alina huffed. "I don't know if it's a good idea. All I know is that I refuse to sit idly by and let you kill hundreds in Novokribirsk and threaten the lives of the hundreds of thousands that live across this continent."

"We may not have a choice, Alina." His gaze was impassive. 

"There's always a choice," she shot back.

"Indeed. And for now, I choose to get back on the road." He stood. "Be ready to leave within the hour." With that, he swept out of the room, his black _kefta_ billowing out behind him.

Alina resisted the urge to throw the teapot at the back of his head as he left. It would be a waste of perfectly good tea, she thought grimly. Again, she felt a small measure of relief that he hadn't dismissed her plan outright. That much would have to do. His point about her willingness to use _merzost_ weighed heavily on her, but it was a gamble she was willing to make. Maybe that made her as bad as he was. Who was she to dictate the fate of half the world? The thought made her shift uncomfortably in her chair. Was her hunger for power growing to rival his? She'd never wanted to sit on a throne, but she couldn't deny that the thought of all the good she could do from that vantage point was tantalizing. People were relying on her to save them from the ills that plagued their world. If the alternative to her way was endless darkness and death, for good or for ill she could only try.

\-----------

The second day on the road was just as awful as the first. Alina stared in boredom between her horse's ears as it plodded or trotted along through the endless hours. Luckily, she was able to produce enough light to keep her hands and feet warm since they weren't hiding their presence. That was something, at least.

The Darkling rode uncomplaining through the cold, although Alina knew he must be chilled all the way through his extra black cloak and gloves. His need to never show weakness was slightly maddening, but it also meant that they kept a brisk pace and stayed out of the hands of any soldiers that might be following them.

Late in the day, they crested a ridge, and she could see the outline of Kribirsk ahead of them. Her stomach gave a nervous twist, but there was nothing to be done but to continue following the Darkling's horse as he eased it once more into a swift canter.

The town was as ramshackle as she remembered it being. Its stores had mostly closed for the evening, but the lights of the brothels glowed in the growing darkness. Just past the edge of town, on the shores of the Unsea, a bustling Grisha encampment reared up before her. The different orders gathered together around several fires, seeming as if they were abandoning their usual preference to keep separate from each other. 

Alina was unsurprised to see the Darkling guiding his horse towards the grand tent housing the senior members of the Grisha army. She saw it was made of thicker black canvas than the billowing silk of the summer months when she had first entered it after her encounter with the volcra. She'd been panicked and afraid to be within the presence of the man who rode before her now. How much things had changed, and yet how little at the same time, she thought.

The Darkling dismounted before the entrance, handing the reins to a servant--one who this time bowed respectfully unlike the stablehand at the inn the previous evening. Alina dismounted gingerly, feeling like she would be happy to never see another horse again. 

Pushing the tent flap open, the Darkling gestured for Alina to precede him. On entering, the beautiful bronze drapings and glittering chandeliers did little to impress her. She was accustomed to the splendor of the Little Palace now, but she found that the opportunity to get some more sleep and to perhaps even take a bath were incredibly tempting prospects. Instead, the Darkling turned to her, saying, "Take some time to clean up, then be ready to enter the Fold."

Alina almost squawked at his words. "Now? Tonight?"

"Tonight. I want our triumphant exchange on the Fold tomorrow to be during the height of daylight. If we are to test your power on the volcra, it must be now."

Alina's heart gave a jolt at that, but she only nodded. A servant approached her and beckoned her towards one of the inner rooms. Following the charcoal-clad young woman who led her onwards, she stepped inside a cozy space containing a bed, a carved table and chair, and a washbasin. She recognized her trunk from the Little Palace. At least her _kefta_ had made the journey safely. A golden brazier on a low stand heated the air. Alina looked wearily around her and was relieved when the servant left her alone so that she could peel her current travel-stained _kefta_ from her body along with the clothes she'd worn for the past two days.

The water in the basin was delightfully warm, and she took time as she sponged herself off, trying to wash away the effects of the road. She knew she couldn't dally forever, though. When her body felt deliciously clean, she pulled out a new set of clothes and a fresh _kefta_ and pulled the garments on, stuffing her letters into the inside pocket once more. They made a comforting weight against her chest. 

With a feeling of trepidation, she walked to the tent’s common area and saw that the Darkling stood waiting for her on the raised dais. He, too, looked much more like himself now that his black clothes were no longer dusty around the hem.

He strode towards her and when he reached her, he held a hand out. She took it, and the two walked through the tent with the eyes of all the Grisha trained on them. Did they know that their fate rested on Alina being able to overcome the volcra that very night? She couldn't be sure, but as they stepped outside the tent, she saw a small crowd had gathered led by Ivan. 

Ivan bowed to the Darkling, saying, _Moi soverenyi_. The glance he sent Alina's way held more respect than it ever had before as he said, "The sandskiff is ready."

The Darkling nodded, and as Alina saw the impenetrable blackness of the Fold's walls drawing closer, she gripped his hand tighter.

He gently squeezed her fingers in response.

David appeared out of the crowd once they reached the skiff. He held out the mirrored device and began to help Alina strap it to her arm. Looking down at the sleek, finished design that had once been a ramshackle contraption, she asked him, "What should I do with it?"

He tightened the straps as he replied, "Just point your arm at any of the volcra that come near and send your focused light through the lens. The machine will do the rest."

"You tested it?"

"I almost melted a hole in the floor, and it didn't explode, so...yes?"

Alina's heart and stomach both gave a lurch. "That's great, David. Just great."

The Fabrikator stepped away from her. "Good luck," he said, looking nervous but excited.

Alina wished she felt that same excitement, but before she could try to back out, the skiff started forward, skimming along the dead sands at the behest of the Squallers' breezes. Once more she experienced the sensation of drifting into a thick cloud of smoke. As the darkness grew deeper and deeper, she felt a moment of panic when she could no longer see her own body or anything around her.

They had only travelled a short distance when the Darkling raised his voice enough to say, "Inferni."

Columns of fire lashed out into the air, lighting up the blackness that pressed tight around the skiff and its inhabitants. In response, that dreaded sound of leathery, flapping wings and rough shrieks began to sound through the air, coming from all quarters around them. 

One of the hideous creatures came into view on the edges of the light, and Alina gasped to see the volcra's glistening gray body, the arms ending in long claws, and the gaping maw of a mouth studded with rows of sharp teeth. She would never get used to the sight, and she shuddered in terror.

Utterly calm, the Darkling's voice again speared through the monstrous cries filling the air as he repeated his command, "Inferni."

With a stuttering motion as if they were afraid to obey, the columns of fire died to nothing. Whimpers and soft prayers filled Alina's ears from those surrounding her, and it felt like hours when it must have been only seconds before the Darkling whispered into her ear, "Light."

Her power exploded into the darkness as she raised her free arm and shot a bolt of golden brilliance into the air to surround the skiff. The volcra screamed and wheeled, trying to avoid the glare. A handful of them had been in the act of diving to snatch at the Grisha around her. Amidst the chaos, she could see scores of volcra drawing towards them through the gloom, drawn by the cries of their brethren and the previous light from the Inferni's fiery assault.

"With me," the Darkling commanded, sending his arm in the arcing motion of the Cut. The volcra he had singled out was nearly torn into two halves, and it fell with a thud to the ground. Alina sucked in a breath and raised the arm covered in David's device. She trembled, but held firm against her terror. Drawing on the power of the amplifier encircling her neck, she pulled her light from deep within her and sent a piercing, concentrated beam through the lens she gripped in her hands.

The light shot from the lens in a solid cone of blinding light. Where it caught the volcra, they lit up as if seared by an Inferni's blast, their skin bubbling and burning. The stench was horrific, and the screaming in her ears as she moved her arm through the air in a sweeping gesture magnified until she thought her ears would bleed with the sound. Volcra were frantically flapping away from their burning brethren, their wings catching fire where they brushed against each other.

"The Cut," the Darkling hissed in her ear. Without thinking, she raised her arm in tandem with his and slashed out. A wave of flaring light sped through the lens and through the air, shimmering with heat and overtaking the fleeing volcra. They disintegrated before her eyes in a wash of power like nothing she had ever seen before. She could see the Darkling was still slashing through the air again and again, but his blasts only took down one or two at a time rather than the mass of bodies she had obliterated with one swipe.

"Squallers," the Darkling shouted, and winds began to rise to billow out the skiff's sails. They were going to chase them, Alina realized. The volcra were fleeing, and now the Grisha were in pursuit. She lost herself in the play of energy filling her body and cascading down her arm. Time seemed like nothing as she worked beside the Darkling. There was only the slashing, the burning, and the enraged and terrified screams that were growing fainter and fainter.

Soon there was nothing. The surviving volcra had vanished. The bodies of those the Darkling had killed dotted the sand in heaps, but those that Alina had caught in her blasts were just...gone. As she came back to herself, above the sound of the blood pounding in her ears, she became aware of a rising wave of sound. 

As she looked around her, Grisha were screaming and crying in happiness this time rather than terror. They clapped each other on shoulders or outright hugged their fellows. A Squaller lifted an Inferni off of her feet, and as she laughed, she bent down and kissed the Squaller soundly. Through it all, the Darkling stood next to Alina, an oasis amidst the chaos surrounding them.

They were already on their way back to the edges of the Fold. A few Squallers had kept their wits long enough to fill the sails to get them off the dead sands and back to Kribirsk. As the shadows thinned into an insubstantial mist like shreds of black cloud, the light from the stars and the moon fell onto them and on the crowd of Grisha who eagerly awaited them on the shore of the Unsea.

Alina realized she was still swathed in a bright glow, and she let it dwindle until only a gentle aura surrounded her. In that light and the light of lanterns held aloft, she saw the wave of their audience rush forward to meet them. She dimly felt those on the skiff streaming around her, brushing past and crying out exclamations of victory to their fellows.

Shouts and cheers erupted from every throat, spreading from the epicenter until the entire camp resonated with the sounds of celebration. Bottles of _kvass_ held by the waiting crowd in anticipation of success or failure now circulated, and the raucous atmosphere built higher and higher. 

Alina felt dizzy with the rush that had filled her body from the moment she opened up her power. It still had not abated and she felt as if she'd drunk more champagne than she'd ever had in her entire life. As her head whirled, she felt long fingers brush against hers, and she realized the Darkling had clasped her hand in his own. He tugged her through the horde of Grisha, some spinning and dancing, some racing through the camp as if they were children again, laughing and howling their joy to the skies. 

The Darkling pulled her towards the cathedral-like tent, and when they entered, the hush within felt like a slap compared to the raucous noise outside. Alina followed him as he drew her deeper inside, and although she didn't know where he was going, she reveled in the drunken feeling of her power mixed with the crashing sense of purpose that filled her at his touch.

He stopped in front of a room she'd never seen before. Its cloth covering bore his symbol of the sun in eclipse. The thought trailed giddily through her mind that this must be his room. He pushed the flap open and turned to her, holding out his hand. His eyes held a promise within them that she was helpless to resist.

As he stepped backwards, she followed, and was plunged gently into shadow.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been eagerly waiting to share this one. I hope it lives up to expectations! *rubs hand in anticipation*

Letting the cloth door fall closed behind her, Alina realized the cool darkness she'd careened into was actually shadows coming off the Darkling himself. The rest of the room was warm and brightly lit. A large bed stood to the side of the room, and a copper tub was pressed up against the far tent wall while a table and chairs took up much of the rest of the space. She watched him move unsteadily around the room, trailing shadows that swirled and eddied in his wake just as her light was still cascading out of her in a steady glow. 

She couldn't seem to stop that light from appearing, and she felt as if the sun and the stars themselves filled her body. Power still coursed through her veins, and she stumbled, giggling, as if she were tipsy. The Darkling turned at the sound. He laughed on seeing her, the sound a joyful thing, and he caught her with his strong hands before she lost her balance entirely. 

He ran those hands up and down her arms, as if luxuriating in the sensation of stroking her. When she met his eyes, she saw that they too were heavy-lidded as if he also felt the same drunken exultation from using so much of his power and at the victory over the volcra. Each time his hands drifted down her arms, his fingertips brushed the backs of her hands. The feeling of his skin sliding against hers was intoxicating, and she practically purred at his touch. Flashes and images of their time in the _banya_ filled her mind, and she couldn't help but think of all the things he had made her feel there. 

She wanted that again. 

When he reached down to take her waist firmly in his hands, she gasped. She not only wanted more of the things he had already done to her before, she wanted all the things he might show her now that she'd never even dreamed of. 

Sensing her desire for him, the Darkling pulled her towards him with a low, wanting sound, and she went to him eagerly. She twined her arms around his neck and met his kiss with her own. The feel of his mouth on hers made her glow even brighter with the pleasure of it. She parted her lips at his entreaty, and he pressed his mouth to hers more fiercely, demanding that she give in to the sensations that only he could give her. She knew she would never tire of the taste of his mouth, and she stroked her tongue shyly against his, showing him that she was eager to put into practice what he had previously taught her. The sound of their harsh breathing and gasps spread through the room like a strange music that drove her excitement even higher.

Alina could smell his scent surrounding her. It was like the night, the cold winter wind, and the darkness that lurked behind the stars. Her senses were filled to the brim as she pulled his body even closer so that there was no distance between them at all. She pressed close, struggling not to writhe against him, wanting to feel his hard body pressing into her softness. 

He wasn't immune to her need, either. The way he kissed her was different this time. There was a sense of abandon to it, as if he couldn't hold back what he truly wanted. A blissful sense of satisfaction rolled through her at that thought, pooling in her lower belly and setting into motion a deep, throbbing ache. She threaded her fingers through his hair, pulling at it slightly to see what he would do. Clasping her tighter, he gave a low growl in response that thrilled her to her bones.

He began to walk her backwards until the backs of her knees bumped up against the edge of that large bed. If she wanted to stop, now would be the time to tell him.

She didn't want him to stop, though. Not ever.

He pulled back to look into her eyes as if gauging her intent. He must have seen his own need reflected there and in her small, dark smile, because he dropped his gaze and began to unbutton her _kefta_ with fingers made almost clumsy by eagerness. That fact alone--that the Darkling could be anything but cold and deliberate--thrilled her and sent pleasure skittering across her nerves. When he pushed the coat from her shoulders, she stood in front of him in only a skirt and a tight tunic. With her help, he pulled the tunic over her head in one quick motion. Intent on helping, she unfastened the skirt and let it drop to the floor where it pooled around her ankles, leaving her in only her underthings. 

She stood before him practically naked, and Alina felt a twinge of nervousness cut through the haze of feeling as she wondered whether or not he would like what he saw. All her doubts were put to rest as he inhaled through his nose with a sharp sound when he took in the length of her body and all that bared skin. She saw his pupils dilate so that she could almost drown in his eyes as he looked his fill, and she felt a warm glow at the recognition of the desire he felt for her. Reaching out to grasp her waist in both hands again, he began to stroke her sides with his palms, running his fingertips over the ridge of her spine. When his hands reached the top of her ribcage, he ran his thumbs over the thin band covering her breasts. She couldn't help but give a small moan at the sensation.

He leaned forward until his mouth was close to her ear. "Take them off," he commanded, reaching down and tugging gently at her underclothes. "I want to see you." His voice was a deep rasp and the timbre was as dark as she'd ever heard it. She tried to comply. She couldn't seem to stop trembling with how much she wanted him, but she fumbled with the garments until they too dropped to the floor. 

She stood there as he watched her, his eyes moving all along her naked body. Those eyes burned like coals, and she shivered at the raw look she saw in them. His gaze felt like he was touching her at each place that his eyes rested, running from her face and neck to her breasts and finally coming to rest on the place between her legs. She pressed her thighs together, unsure of what to do, but the sensation made her ache for his touch even more. 

Her nipples had long ago hardened to aching points. She didn't know how to ask him for what she wanted, but she wanted him to do what he had done to her in the _banya_ when he had taken them into his mouth and sucked at them. The thought made her give a tiny whimper of need. As if he knew exactly what she wanted, he took pity on her. Raising his hands to trace his long, slender fingers along the globes of her breasts, he began to lightly squeeze her nipples between thumb and forefinger.

She raised her arms to wrap them around his neck, pulling him down for a long, gentle kiss. He complied with her demands and made his own as he dropped one hand down to brush her stomach before sliding his fingers between her thighs. She hadn't even realized she had spread her legs for him in anticipation of his touch. 

"Alina," he whispered, as he parted her and dipped his fingers into her hot, slick wetness. The sound made her arch into his fingers, wanting to give him more and to take more for herself. As he stroked her, he began to circle that same spot that had made her lose control the first time he had touched her there in the dark of the bath house. Breaking their kiss, but not stopping the motion of his fingers, he drew her closer to him so that she could feel his warm breath on her neck. The sound of his quick, ragged breathing made her feel as if she was about to lose control just as he obviously wanted her to do.

She needed him to keep going until she pushed over onto that shining bank of pure feeling, but he began to slow the motion of his hand just when she needed it to move faster. When he pulled his fingers away from her entirely, she couldn't help but give a small wail of frustration. 

At that, he made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a groan. He spoke gently into her ear, saying, "Have patience. You make me forget myself when I have so much more to show you." With those words, he stepped back from her and began to unbutton his _kefta_. When he followed that action by removing his shirt, she couldn't help but stare at the lean perfection of his chest and torso. He toed off his boots in a graceful motion, and she almost gave a slightly hysterical giggle at the sight of his bare feet. 

All her urge to laugh left her as soon as he began to slide his legs out of his pants, and soon he was clothed only in his underthings. He looked like something out of an artist's sketchbook, his limbs long and lithe. Taking her hand, he sat down on the bed. When he pulled her down after him, she went willingly, pressing her legs close against his and brushing her upper half against his chest. The feel of his bare skin against hers provoked a heady sensation and she tilted her head up to offer him another kiss.

He met her mouth with his and indulged her for several long moments, his hand tracing her cheek and her neck before returning to her breasts. When he broke away from her, he looked into her eyes as he began to slowly push her backwards until she was stretched out on the bed with her head cushioned by the down-filled pillows. She stretched and slid, arching her body against the cool silk of his sheets, and was gratified to see his eyes widen in pleased surprise at her wantonness.

He pushed his undergarments off of his thighs and all the way down his legs before stretching out alongside her. He lay on his side facing her, his body pressed against hers as he began to run his hand in gentle, lazy strokes all over her torso. The shocked thought ran through her mind that they were both naked and were about to do something she had sometimes imagined but had never thought she would actually experience. She blushed at the thought. She knew the stark details of what a man's anatomy entailed, but she couldn't actually see that part of him at the moment. The insistent pressure of it against her thigh told her that it was very much present, however, and that the Darkling was intensely interested in what they were doing. If it was possible, she blushed even harder.

His mouth curved in a small smile. "What is it?" he asked, his voice low.

"Just...nervous."

"Don't be. You look beautiful. If you don't like what I'm doing, then tell me and I'll stop."

"I don't want you to stop," she said on an embarrassed whisper.

"And I'm very glad to hear that." As if to reward her for her admission, he turned her face towards his and began to kiss her. All her thoughts and cares melted away at the feel of his mouth on hers. He broke off the kiss to place another one on her neck, nipping at her skin gently then rubbing his tongue lightly over the bite. Her anticipation rose higher when he moved lower down her body and began to kiss and suck at her nipples just as she had wanted. She reveled in the feeling, moaning her approval and stroking his hair.

He brought his hand to the place between her legs once more, and she shifted beneath him, inviting him in by spreading her legs wider. Gently, he rubbed the place that cried out and ached for his touch, but he also alternated between that spot and the entrance to her body. He carefully slid one finger inside her-- a strange sensation--encouraging her to relax around him before sliding his fingers back up to circle the place that was somehow growing even more sensitive every time he entered her. 

It wasn't long before he had fit two fingers inside of her and was slowly moving them in a gesture that both soothed and inflamed her. His mouth sucked gently at her breast, synced to the same rhythm as his fingers, and she arched helplessly beneath him. When she was fully relaxed around his thrusting fingers, he returned to stroking her sensitive nub that now felt as if it pulsed with every beat of her heart. As he did so, he lifted his mouth from her nipple and looked into her face, watching her struggle towards what she desperately wanted. She met his eyes as she writhed beneath him, and small cries began to fall from her lips. 

Just as he had in the _banya_, he began to murmur words of encouragement to her. This time she could hear them as he said in his soft voice, "You are so beautiful, Alina...Come for me now...That's right...Do it..."

At the sound of his words coaxing her, commanding her, she felt herself begin to fly apart. Her body shook and bucked around his hand as she gave in to the raw pleasure of what she was feeling. As she convulsed with helpless movements, she felt him spreading her legs wider and settling himself between them.

Before she was completely aware of what was happening, she felt pressure return to the entrance between her legs. A moment later, she realized that he had begun to fill her body with that part of him that was still a mystery to her. She stilled, her attention snapping to the sensation of him stretching her wider than his fingers had been able to stretch her previously. It felt unfamiliar, that pressure, and the stretching was uncomfortable and hurt a little. She stifled the impulse to push away from him. 

The look on his face was one of intense concentration when she raised her eyes to look at him. He moved his hips slowly, the rocking motion becoming almost hypnotic as he moved within her in and out. In and out, again and again. She tentatively reached her hands up to his shoulders and rested them there before gliding her fingers up and down the back of his neck in an echo of his own motions.

He groaned when he felt her light touch, and she felt a rush of something like tenderness for him at the sound. He began to move with more intent, his hips driving forward in determined thrusts. His weight was held off of her by the strength of his arms, and she began to run her hands over the corded muscles that were bunching and flexing tighter and tighter as he gave himself over to his need. 

Soon his breath began to come in short, sharp pants through his parted lips. She watched him closely as he continued to take her body with his own. His eyes were closed, and his brows were drawn together, His face reflected a mixture of something like pain as much as it did pleasure. She wanted him to feel as good as he had made her feel, and she began to murmur into his ear. "Yes, Aleksander. Please...Yes..."

At that, he gave one final, deep thrust, a low cry tearing its way from his throat. He shuddered for a long moment and then stilled, his chest heaving against hers and pressing her deeper into the mattress as his arms relaxed slightly.

Alina stroked his hair gently and kissed his cheek where his face was turned towards hers. 

He gave a long sigh as he felt the press of her lips. When he pushed himself up onto his arms once more, she almost missed the solid weight of him against her body. His grey eyes were hazy with his own release, but he scanned her face, looking to find something there. Whether he was looking for discomfort, happiness, or unhappiness, she couldn't say. She hoped her face reflected the satisfaction and shy jubilation that she felt.

Slowly, he disentangled himself from her arms, and pulled out of her. She felt the loss of him, but rather than leave the bed, he lay on his side next to her once more. He gently rolled her away from him so that she too lay on her side. Then he moved close to her again so that his body cupped hers. Strong arms encircled her, drawing her against him. That closeness made her feel sated with pleasure and a sweet lassitude filled her limbs. 

As she began to drift off to sleep, she heard him say very quietly, "My Alina," as he brushed a kiss against her neck and tightened his arms around her.

Yes, she thought. Your Alina. And before she could think over what those words might mean, she let sleep overtake her.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the amazing comments and encouragement <3
> 
> And now for a little more...bonding...because let's be honest, they wouldn't be able to get enough of each other.

Alina's eyes fluttered open and for a moment she wasn't completely sure where she was. She felt the cool slide of silk sheets when she moved her legs and she realized she was very, very naked under those sheets. She sat up quickly, holding the sheet to her chest and looked around. Several of the room's lanterns had gone out, but she could easily see the outline of the Darkling sleeping soundly next to her.

After a long moment, she lay back down on her side and watched him. His breathing was slow and even, and the sheet had pooled around his waist, showing an expanse of hard, muscled chest. She reached out tentatively and ran a finger over his arm from shoulder to wrist.

Alina had done it. She'd actually slept with the Darkling. And it had been...good? It hadn't been bad, that was for certain. She remembered all the things Ana Kuya had always preached at her about maidenly modestly and saving herself for marriage, and she blushed at what the orphanage's matron would think if she could see Alina now. Her fingers lingered on the Darkling's wrist as she tried to think of what could possibly happen between them next. 

She'd promised Baghra that she wouldn't forget what he was--what he wanted to be. He wanted to rule the world, and Alina didn't think happily ever after was in line with that outcome. What if this had been a terrible mistake? But she couldn't seem to muster anything that felt like regret. Nervousness? Yes. Regret? No. She glanced upward, wanting to see if she could read some of his secrets on his sleeping face.

His eyes were open and he was watching her.

Alina yelped in surprise and jerked back, pulling the sheet tighter around herself.

"Good morning," he said, his face and voice carefully neutral.

The sound sent a pang through Alina's heart. She had hoped that he would be more open with her now. At least open enough to give her a hint of what he thought about the two of them. She gave a mental snort at the idea. What did you expect, she thought wryly. A leopard doesn't change its spots. Why should she expect him to change after only one night with her laying in his arms.

"Is everything quite alright?" he asked her when she didn't respond.

Alina ducked her head. "It's fine," she said with what she hoped sounded like breezy confidence. No need for him to know that her heart was beginning to hammer like a trapped animal's. There was a rustle of sheets, and the mattress dipped slightly. Then she felt a finger rest beneath her chin, tilting her face up until her eyes met his.

"Really," he said, and his cool voice was patently disbelieving.

Alina sighed, sliding her eyes away from his. "No. It's not alright. What am I doing here?"

"You're here because you wanted to be here. And I don't think that has changed." He paused. "Has it?"

She shook her head. Saints forgive her, but she did want to be here. In his bed. With him.

He ran his fingers from her chin to her neck and down her arm where it held the sheet in a fierce grip.

"Am I really that terrifying?" he asked mildly.

"I thought I was the one who asked all the questions."

"That's not an answer."

No, Alina supposed, it wasn't. 

After a long moment, he gathered her into his arms and pulled her down to rest against him. She lay there, listening to the sound of him breathe as her cheek rested against his chest. He began to stroke her hair gently, and she felt her heart breaking a little. How could she just set aside what he wanted from Ravka and the other nations--what he wanted from her. He expected her to do what he said or her friends would suffer for it. That wasn't love. She didn't know what it was. 

But it felt so good to be with him like this. 

Was there something wrong with her that she needed him this way? Some part of being an orphan that shaped her into someone who wanted his strength and approval and companionship? And yes, even his love? She didn't know, and she decided to set it aside for the moment.

She stirred, and he dropped his arms from her, as if he waited to see what she would do next. She tilted her head up so that she could look into his face. It looked thoughtful and--dare she say it--a little happy.

God.

He gave her a quizzical look. "Are you well? Physically?"

Alina nodded. Her inner muscles and the space between her legs ached a little now that she thought about it, but pleasantly so. It was almost as if she'd pushed herself in a new training exercise. She felt a little mortified at the thought of what that new exercise entailed.

As if he could tell what she was thinking, he gave a low laugh that sent a flutter through her stomach. "I suggest taking a bath. Heat will help if you're feeling sore."

She nodded again, and carefully got out of the bed, sending a glance over her shoulder as she slid out from under the sheet and made her way to the dressing screen next to the wash stand. If she'd expected him to look away to preserve her modesty, he didn't. His cool quartz gaze tracked her progress across the room, and his face bore a slightly bemused expression. She darted a glare at him and snatched up her _kefta_ before ducking behind the screen.

When she returned, he had already pulled on his own _kefta_ and was at the cloth door, speaking to someone on the other side of the flap. Probably a servant, she thought.

"Well, I'll just be going back to my room," she said vaguely.

He looked back at her. "Stay. I've just called for a bath and some breakfast."

"I should go..."

"Please," he said, his voice quiet.

He so rarely used that word. Alina felt herself caving. If she was perfectly honest with herself, she didn't want to go back to her lonely room. Feeling as if she would be making the wrong choice no matter which path she chose, she nodded her head.

She almost hid behind the screen again when she thought about how awkward it would be for servants to find her here in his room when she'd so obviously been tumbled by him. Her eyes darted to the bed, wanting to somehow hide any trace of what they had been doing. What met her eyes gave her pause, and she walked to stand at the head of the bed.

"I didn't bleed," she said, looking down at the sheets in surprise. She'd never been with a man, and she had assumed that was an inevitable side effect of a woman's first time.

The Darkling shrugged. "It doesn't happen that way every time."

"So you've been with your share of virgins?" she asked.

He looked as uncomfortable as she'd ever seen him look. He cleared his throat. "Alina...You know I have lived a very long time..."

It felt ridiculously good to tease him, and Alina laughed at his expression. "It's fine. I don't mind. Really. It's nice to have my first time be with someone so experienced." She blushed at her forthright words, but he looked pleased.

"You look like a cat who caught the canary," she said after a moment.

"I look like a man who has gotten exactly what he wanted," he retorted with a satisfied smirk.

She couldn't help but laugh at his expression. "I think I like that look. I wouldn't mind putting it on your face again soon."

"Again?" He raised his eyebrows in what looked like mild surprise.

"Again," she admitted. "But a bath first."

The cloth flap stirred, and a string of servants began to enter carrying breakfast trays and pitchers of hot water for the copper tub. Alina thought again of desperately trying to hide somewhere. Anywhere.

In response to her expression, the Darkling took her hand in his and led her to the table and chairs. She sank onto one of the chairs gratefully, her back to the row of people entering and exiting. One of the servants set a tray full of eggs and crisp bacon before her. There was also a bowl of the porridge she liked that came with a small pot of honey alongside it. Her fingers itched to ladle the whole sweet and sticky container into the porridge, but she tried to remain dignified as she ate. "So..." she began.

"So," he replied, not giving anything away while he took up a paper and began to scan the top few lines.

"Why are you _always_ doing that?" she demanded, her curiosity getting the better of her.

He set the paper down, giving her a small frown. "I run the kingdom, Alina. You can imagine, I'm sure, how much planning and preparation that takes. This is one part of that."

"It seems like a huge part of it."

He sighed. "It is definitely much more of the job than I ever thought it would be. It's not all fighting volcra and mercenaries. There is a school and an army to maintain, food and weapons lines to keep running, infrastructure to build if we hope to make a better kingdom...The list goes on, believe me."

Alina took a bite of bacon. "Isn't that what councilors and generals are for?"

"Councilors and generals are all well and good, but if you want something done right then you should do it yourself. Otherwise I would be in the same situation as the King."

Alina sobered at the thought of the Ravkan government and what they might be doing at that very moment. Pushing her tray away, she decided she wasn't hungry anymore. The servants had left after putting the finishing touches on the bathtub, and she was more than ready for a long soak. Her thighs felt sticky, and she would very much like to wash away the sweat from the work on the Fold and the activities of the night before.

When she stood over the tub, though, she glanced at the Darkling warily before starting to undo the buttons of her _kefta_. He'd seen it all before--a few times now--but Alina still felt shy. He appeared to be absorbed in one of the documents, though, and she didn't want to be a coward. Besides, she really wanted that bath. 

Stripping the garment off, she dropped her _kefta_ to the floor and climbed into the tub. He had not been wrong. The warm water felt incredibly good on her aches and twinges, and one of the servants had added something that smelled like lemon and peppermint to the water. She leaned her head back against the edge of the tub and gave a contented sigh.

After she had floated in the water, wiggling her toes and feeling the steam and heat ease her into limp relaxation, she heard a rustle of fabric behind her. The Darkling approached, and knelt beside the tub. He held up a small wash cloth. "You forgot this."

"Thank you," she said, reaching to take it from him, but he held it just out of her grasp.

"Let me do it," he said quietly. There was a subtle urgency to his voice, and after a moment, she nodded.

He dipped the cloth in the water and began to stroke it down the length of her arm where it rested on the edge of the tub. Next, he sent it running over her chest and the tops of her breasts where they appeared above the steaming water.

She laughed a little nervously. "You're going to get your _kefta_ wet."

He looked down at himself and gave a small smile before beginning to unbutton the coat. When it fell around his knees, he was gloriously naked beside her. She tried very hard not to stare at him and at what she hadn't been able to get a good look at the night before or that very morning, for that matter.

His eyes darkened as he watched her taking him in. "Stand up," he commanded. As he helped her rise from the water, she found that she didn't mind following his directives. Far from it. It excited her. They stood facing each other--her in the tub with the water up to her knees, and him standing without. She couldn't help but glance downwards. His body was on full display. As if it could sense her attention, the part of him that intrigued her the most began to grow long and hard, jutting up from the juncture of his thighs like a piece of carved marble. The ridges of his hipbones were somehow equally alluring, and the urge to reach out and touch him--to explore him as he had explored her--was getting stronger by the minute.

Before she could give in to her temptation, though, he lifted the wash cloth again and began to rub it over her skin. He ran it slowly over and under her breasts, between them and down the line of her stomach. The act became a very sensual one, and she struggled to keep her breathing even.

When he reached her thighs, he spread her legs apart with an insistent touch. Then he began to very gently wash between her thighs. She was unsure if she was supposed to do anything but stand there, but it did feel very nice as he worked, drawing the cloth up to brush against her entrance and dip between her folds. After he finished, he handed her a towel and brushed a light kiss on her shoulder.

As she stepped out, she stopped him before he could turn away. "It's your turn," she said firmly, and he searched her eyes before finally nodding and letting his arms hang passively at his sides. Alina set the towel down on the ground and took the cloth from his hand to begin running it over the planes of his chest. The water glistened on his skin, and she watched a drop slide down the length of his stomach, making his abdominal muscles tighten in a delightful way. 

She continued to wind a leisurely pace downwards, the tension growing between them as she did so. When she reached the hard length of him, she gave in and ran one finger over his hip bone as she had wanted to do earlier.

He held himself very still. But he didn't stop her.

Watching to see his body's reaction, she reached out slowly and drew the cloth over his manhood--his cock, she thought to herself, remembering the army's word for it--running it up and down the length of him in the same slow pace that he had done with her. It was only fair, after all, she thought. She washed his hips, she washed his thighs and the soft globes between his legs, making him inhale sharply. Most of all, though, she concentrated on the hard line of his erection. 

When she glanced at his face, she saw that his eyes were closed, and his brows were drawing together slightly. He looked as if he was on his way towards the kind of abandon from the night before when he had come inside her. That thought sent a wave of excitement crashing through her.

Giving in to instinct, she replaced the cloth with her bare hand, stroking him up and down in the way that had seemed to please him when he was within her. At that, his eyes flew open, and his hand shot out to hold her wrist. She still grasped him, though, and she squeezed her hand around him lightly, causing him to hiss through clenched teeth.

"Enough," he said, and his voice was low and a little harsh. 

His face was hungry as he took her hand in his and drew her towards the table. To her astonishment, he pushed a stack of papers off of its surface and onto the floor with a crash before lifting her up off of her feet and setting her down so that she sat on the hard wood. She looked up at him and reveled in the feeling of breaking through a little more of his icy self-control. It was intoxicating to know that she was the one who could do that. That it was her body that could call up something wild and primal within him.

She was a little nervous about whether or not being with him would be as uncomfortable as it had been the night before when he'd been inside her, and it didn't seem possible for it to be anything _but_ that now that she had seen and felt the weight and length of him. But he had made it very clear that he would always see to her pleasure, and she wanted to give him the same experience.

She couldn't hold in a gasp when he used his hands to spread her legs a little roughly. When he stepped between them and rested his hardness against her, she again let instinct take over and tilted her hips, wanting him inside.

He positioned himself at her entrance and began that slow process of easing into her that she remembered from the night before. 

Anticipating the uncomfortable stretching, Alina's blinked at the sensation she experienced instead. There was none of the discomfort she had felt her first time. Her body wanted and accepted him, stretching to accommodate all that he was giving her. She placed her hands on his shoulders and urged him forward. He gave a hum of pleased acceptance as he moved farther inside at her invitation. 

Soon he was seated completely within her. Once there, he waited for a moment, letting her grow fully accustomed to him. Alina appreciated his tender care, but she wanted something more from him this time. She wanted that exciting roughness that she sensed lurked just beneath the surface in the both of them. She wanted the man that pushed his responsibilities to the side to take what he truly wanted.

She wanted him to feel weak with how much he wanted her.

He was placing open-mouthed kisses on her neck--something he seemed to love to do--and the feel of his lips made her shiver. She arched her back, pressing her breasts against his firm chest, relishing the feel of her softness contrasting his hardness. His breath caught when he felt the contact, and his voice rasped from him almost as if it was against his will as he rested his forehead against her shoulder.

"Say it again."

She paused, unsure of what he meant.

He said the words through gritted teeth, almost angrily, "My name. Say it again."

Understanding shot through her, and she sensed this would be the key to his undoing. 

"Aleksander," she whispered. "I need you. Please."

With those words he began to thrust inside of her, his breath releasing from him on a ragged sigh. The motion felt so very good this time, and she heard a moan escape her lips. 

It went on and on, the feel of him sliding in and out of her, the feel of him taking her body with his own. The rhythm he had established kept her just short of losing control, and she struggled between wishing that this would last forever alongside her need to bring it all to a crashing end.

The need for him was all-consuming, but the thought kept insinuating itself that she wanted to know that he felt the same. She thought of the other words she'd heard during her time among the soldiers of the First Army. Talk amongst them had been rough and bawdy, and she wanted to see what would happen if she used that language with him. She began to stroke the back of his neck and to run her fingers through his thick black hair. Soon her hands were gliding gently down his broad back until they rested low on his back. Then she leaned forward so that she was close enough to croon softly into his ear, "Fuck me, Aleksander."

The reaction was immediate. At the sound of her words, he stilled, then made a hoarse noise and thrust deep inside of her. She was astonished at the stab of pleasure that accompanied the motion. His body speared into hers, and his kiss when he brought his mouth to hers was no longer soft. There was nothing about him that was soft. Their mouths clashed together in a dance of gasps, and teeth, and tongue. 

This was not the gentle and thoughtful coupling of the night before. This was raw and straining and almost as if they were fighting each other in order to give and take pleasure. Her hands slid even lower down his back, cupping his backside and urging him on as he took her. His hips worked like pistons, driving him into her, and he seemed almost on the verge of fracturing the rhythm entirely in his eagerness. She dragged her nails up the length of his back then dug them into his shoulders. He gripped her hips even tighter in response.

Something was rising inside of her, and she thought briefly that it might be that shining edge she wanted so badly--the edge he would eventually tip her over. But instead, whatever it was tapped into her power, making her light rise to the surface and spring from her in a bright glow. She realized he was bringing his ability to act as an amplifier to bear on her. The rushing sense of surety, of rightness, spread through both her body and spirit. An intense feeling began to fill her, and suddenly she was tied to him, his emotions and absolute pleasure mirroring her own. 

Helpless in the face of the enormity of the sensations, she tried to take hold of the reins and began to push her own wild abandon through the connection between them. He returned the favor, shoving his power through the connection until it swept through the both of them. The electricity of it sparked and snapped through her veins, and she began to cry out with no care at all for if the servants or if the entire Grisha encampment heard her. 

For a moment, it felt like she left her body entirely as she bucked beneath him. Then she became dimly aware that he was holding her hips still while he drove deep, convulsing briefly between her legs. 

Alina felt as if she was floating amongst the stars, lost in wonder and radiant joy. Time seemed to stretch and expand, but the feeling of him under her hands began to ground her to reality again.

When Aleksander finally stirred and pulled away from her, his expression was that of someone who had been shell-shocked. For her own part, Alina couldn't seem to stop smiling at him. She knew she was grinning like an idiot, but nothing could dim the blissful sense that everything was right with the world. Underlying everything was a smug satisfaction that she was starting to know what to do to bring herself pleasure and to bring him pleasure as well.

Stepping backwards, he drifted towards a trunk next to the dressing screen that she'd noticed earlier. Opening it, he took out a fresh tunic and pants. He dressed in silence, and she watched as he finished by pulling the shirt roughly over his head. 

"Aleksander." She felt the weight of his name settle in her bones and fizz on her tongue. 

He looked up at the sound of his name.

"Thank you." 

He nodded, wordlessly. She wondered what he was thinking. He was probably thinking about wanting and weakness, she decided based on the look on his face.

She sighed. Perhaps nothing was resolved between them, but something had changed and shifted, nevertheless. She could feel it.

He moved to the bed that a servant had made back up at some point while Alina had been eating her breakfast. A small pile of clothes rested there, and he held them up to her.

"I had them bring something for you to wear."

Alina felt equal parts grateful for his forethought, embarrassment that everyone probably knew what they'd been doing together, and worry as she saw him resuming his mantle of cold indifference.

She climbed off the table and took the clothes from him, dressing in silence. If he wanted to give her the cold shoulder, she could do the same to him.

She didn't want to, though. Alina stepped towards him into his personal space, and he refused to back away. She was willing to use his pride against him, and she took the opportunity to lift up on her toes and press a gentle kiss to his mouth.

He returned it only a little begrudgingly.

"I'll see you later," she said calmly, although she was still doing inner cartwheels.

Alina had intended to go back to her room to think over what had just happened and to clean up once again. Sex was a messy business, she thought. Delightful, but messy.

Before she could leave, though, the sound of a throat being cleared sounded from outside the door.

Aleksander met Alina's eyes with his own, but he resolutely called out, "Enter."

The flap opened, and Ivan stood before them. The Heartrender was obviously being careful not to look at Alina, and she blushed at the uncomfortableness of the situation. Damn it, she thought. She would not let this be awkward.

"What is it?" she asked the Corporalnik.

He glanced her way. She was surprised when he actually opened his mouth to answer her. Then the man hesitated.

"Out with it," Aleksander said coolly. 

Ivan breathed in, then let out a long breath as he faced his commander. "_Moi soverenyi_...Our spies amongst the Grand Palace staff have sent word: the Fjerdan Queen and the Shu Han Emperor arrived in Os Alta last night. The treaty has been signed."


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well...they couldn't stay happy forever. 
> 
> A bit nervous about this chapter. Includes my take on why Aleks might be so hateful towards those who aren't Grisha. And I always pictured that he would be a real asshole if you crossed him based on the books.

Aleksander went still at Ivan's words, but he was in motion a moment later, snapping at the Corporalnik, "Double the lines guarding the camp, and alert those watching the roads. I expect to be kept informed of any movements of enemy troops. And tell my council they will be here within the hour ready to present their strategems."

Ivan bowed, saying, "_Da, moi soverenyi_," before leaving at a brisk pace.

Aleksander bent to retrieve one of the papers he had pushed to the floor only half an hour earlier when everything had been so very different. Alina tried to help him gather the documents, but she saw that his motions were abrupt and stilted.

"Are you alright?" she asked, concerned for him.

He shot her a scornful look. "We are about to have three nations march their armies on top of our heads, Alina. No, I am not 'alright.'"

She drew back from him at those words. He was as angry as she'd ever seen him. It seemed like more than just the impending fight ahead of them.

"What can I do?" she asked, trying to put a hand on his arm. 

He didn't meet her eyes. "You can return to your room until I have need of you."

Alina felt cold from the frosty tone of his voice.

"But I could help--" 

He cut her off. "I have things that I must take care of, and you do know nothing of strategy and tactics."

"But--"

"I do not have time to indulge you. Go."

Alina felt herself drawing up with resentment at his words. But then she stopped. He was angry. Of course he was angry. She had succeeded in distracting him from his "true purpose," and now his window to enter the Fold and take the steps he needed in order to control it must be closing.

She moved to stand in front of him, staring intently at his face and not turning away until he met her eyes. "I'm not going anywhere," she said softly.

He blew out a breath of irritation. "Alina..."

"Just listen to me! Now is the time for us to move or we'll be surrounded. We can enter the Fold before the armies get here. Then I'll destroy the volcra and you can show me how to use _merzost_. Together, we'll create that new world you've talked about--a true new world!" 

As if he couldn't stand to stay still at her words, Aleksander began to pace around the room like a caged animal.

Alina followed behind him as she attempted to plead her case. "Grisha will flock to us because of you. Regular people will come because they want me to free them from the wars. It will work. We can defend our new home together!"

He cut her off at that, his voice harsh. "No. I will not countenance your naïve ideas of living in peace with the _otkazat'sya_."

"They deserve to have a new Ravka just as much as the Grisha do," she insisted.

"They do not," he spat. "All they will do is continue to fear us, and they will eventually turn against us when we least expect it. We would be destroyed from the inside out."

"You don't know that it would be like that!" she exclaimed.

"I know, Alina." The conviction in his voice was infuriating.

"You _don't_ know. You're always acting like anyone who isn't Grisha is so far beneath you. But that's who I come from, Aleksander. Those are my people as much as the Grisha."

He cut a hand through the air in an angry gesture. "Always trying to be less than you are meant to be."

Alina ignored the barb. "You don't know everything. Admit it. You don't know that it would be how you say it would be."

He turned away from her then, his back to her and his shoulders tight. She didn't think he was going to respond to her taunt. When he finally turned to face her, his voice was stiff. "Once again, you do not understand."

"Then enlighten me," she said fiercely, her hands on her hips.

"Fine." He broke eye contact with her again and seemed to be choosing his words carefully. "Before you, there was someone else I once...cared for." He shook his head. "But she was _otkazat'sya_ and could never be my equal." He met her eyes once more. "It was pointless and idiotic."

Alina was shocked at the admission, and more than a little nervous to hear what he had to say. "Tell me," she demanded.

He stared down at the few papers that still lay scattered on the floor next to the table. "Her name was Natalya. She was a laundress, of all things, and she followed the Second Army."

He grew silent as if lost in memories. 

"How did you meet?" Alina prompted.

One side of his mouth lifted in a small smile as if he was helpless to stop it. "When I came upon her, she was giving a Squaller who was twice her size a piece of her mind for getting mud on her stack of clean clothes. I had never seen anyone so fearless. We...talked," he said, and Alina could imagine a wealth of actions bound up in his words.

Trying to push away the discomfort of putting a name to one of his previous conquests, she asked, "Then what happened?"

"I set her up in a cottage. I visited her whenever I could." His voice became bitter, his eyes even farther away. "We fought as much as we did anything else, but for the first time, I felt like a simple life might be enough. Marriage...children... Ilya Morozova had that much with someone who was not Grisha. No matter how fraught that relationship became, I could not help but wish to have a small part of that. I felt like turning my back on the difficult path of saving Ravka--to care only for myself and my own wishes." He gave a short, harsh laugh. "She claimed she loved me more than anything in the world."

Alina swallowed and bit down a useless surge of jealousy. So there had been someone who he would have laid down his plans for. He just wouldn't do it for her. She could sense there was an ugly ending to the story, though, as there were to most of the stories about him.

Without prompting, he continued. "She knew I would live longer than her, and she knew I was more powerful than any other living man, but she promised me that she didn't care about that. I should have known she was not telling the truth. She came to fear me as all those with any sense do."

"Why?"

He hesitated. "She had a best friend--another young man in the surrounding village. He was always there whenever I came to visit. One day I came back and saw him embracing her." 

He looked Alina in the face, and his voice became calm. "I lost my temper. She swore it meant nothing, but I didn't believe her. I used the Cut on him and then threatened to turn it on her as well."

Alina raised her hands to her mouth in horror. She'd known he was a jealous man. Even a petty one. But she had never witnessed his threats made real.

He continued. "She called me a monster, and when I came back the next time, she was gone. She ran as fast and as far as she could go."

His gaze was steady, and his lips twisted in an ugly smile. "I followed her, of course. I had some misguided need to apologize and make everything right."

"What happened then?" she whispered.

"When I found her, she was dying of fever. She was friendless and alone. I thought to care for her--to find a Healer. But she pushed me away from her with her last breath. When she looked at me, Alina..." He shook his head. "It was like I was a thing out of a nightmare."

After that, he was quiet again, turning his eyes to his hands, playing with the shadows that swam around his fingers as if to reassure himself of his power. When he spoke again, his voice was slow and sure. "And that is how I know that there will only ever be fear and deception and destruction when you stray from our own kind. If I am meant to do anything, it is to save the Grisha and the Grisha alone."

Alina waited for him to look up at her. When he did, she said softly, "You made a mistake, Aleksander. It wasn't your fault." 

She wasn't sure if that was strictly true, but she felt the need to say something to soothe him.

His eyes shot to hers, and his mouth turned down in a frown. "Of course it wasn't my fault. If she had not run, then she would have lived a relatively longer life and then died of old age like all the other _otkazat'sya_." 

Alina tried not to stare at him. That wasn't the response she'd been expecting. She'd expected something a little more...human.

He straightened. "I may have acted a fool, but at least the experience taught me much about keeping my emotions in check." 

She could see him building the wall between them again, brick by brick with each passing second. He was so twisted and angry, Alina thought. And lonely, she amended. There was that, too. But she didn't doubt that he was telling the truth. He really did want to save Ravka. Or to at least save his own people. 

And maybe he wanted someone who wouldn't run from what he was. Was that what drew him to her as much as the idea of eternal companionship and unheard-of power?

With these thoughts and questions filling her mind, she said slowly, "What you experienced happened a long time ago." 

He snorted. "It does not seem that long ago, believe me."

She continued as if he hadn't said anything. "Please, Aleksander. Show me that you're not that man anymore. Show me that you can be the man I know you could be--the man who laughs with me and reads folk tales, and yes, even the man who comes with me into the _banya_. Don't do something that will make you truly be the monster people think you are."

He shook his head. "You are asking too much of me, Alina."

"No I'm not," she insisted. "There is good inside you. I've seen it. Maybe you don't think you can show it--maybe you don't know _how_ to show it--but I know it must be there. Just give yourself a chance."

The expression in his eyes was stark and empty at her words. "How many times must I demonstrate for you that I am not this good man you wish for me to be?" 

Alina stamped her foot, her frustration growing stronger with every word that fell from his mouth. "Promise me that you will stop and consider before you end countless lives." She stepped closer to him and rested her hands on his chest, praying with everything she had that he would listen to her. "I'm trying to keep you from doing something you will regret for the rest of your life."

He cupped her cheek with his hand. "Oh Alina, you must know by now that I regret nothing." He leaned down to drop a gentle kiss onto her lips. "But yes, I will stop for now. I will stop, and I will wait, and when the soldiers come, I will be prepared for them." 

His eyes began to burn with a cold light. "You will guide the Grisha to the edge of Novokribirsk, and l will push the Fold so far beyond its western borders that it will be as if nothing else ever existed. The Fjerdans, and the Shu, and everyone else who ever stood against me will know what eternal darkness feels like." His mouth curved in a vicious smile. "Those who are not food for the volcra, that is."

Alina jerked away from him. "But what about the people? What about the innocent people you'd be murdering? Men, women...children!"

Aleksander held a finger in the air and wagged it in mock playfulness. "Innocent _otkazat'sya_, you mean." Then his expression went hard. "And I care nothing for them." 

Alina threw her hands into the air, letting her anger fly free and shouting, "How can you be this way? And why did I even bother to think you could change? You refuse to let anything touch you. Saints forbid you show a little mercy or humanity."

He crossed his arms. "Mercy is for those who care about what others think of them. I do not." 

"Don't you care what _I_ think, though?"

"I think you will think ill of me no matter what course I take--so long as it is not the course you want."

That stung her, and it hit a little too close to home. It was true that she wanted him to do exactly what she asked of him, but she had his best interests at heart. _His_ best interests as well as those of three countries. She thought of Baghra's declaration that felt like it had come a long time ago:

_You think I don't love my son. But I do. It is because I love him that I will not let him put himself beyond redemption._

The old woman's words now resonated with Alina in a way she hadn't expected them to. I want the same thing, she thought to herself. Does that mean I love him as well? But that was ridiculous. She tried her best to shake the thought off, but it clung to her even as she wanted to rail at him for his cruelty. 

She stopped herself, though. Anger didn't seem to be swaying him. Perhaps another line of attack would work. Her voice became more even. Persuasive. "Aleksander. You know that I care for you. Don't do this.

"You care for me now, then?" His voice was perfectly even as he withdrew from her and walked around the table so that they stood facing each other across it. He was so maddeningly calm that they could have been discussing the weather. It was as if they had never shared a single moment of intimacy with each other. There was something dangerous lurking beneath that placid surface, though. Something her words of affection seemed to be provoking.

"You know I do. What do I have to do to prove it? What can I say to make you change your mind?" 

He held himself still, then he spoke and his voice was like ice. "You want to prove it? You want me to change? Then explain these." 

On those words, he reached into his _kefta_ and tossed a very familiar stack of papers tied in a blue ribbon onto the table. They slid towards her over the table's smooth surface, and she reached out to stop their forward progress before they slid to the floor.

Alina felt the blood drain from her face as she realized what sat beneath her fingers. She hadn't even realized the letters were no longer in her _kefta_ pocket. For a moment, she was absolutely tongue-tied as she picked them up and held them gingerly in her hands as if they would burn her. Feelings of guilt and fear welled up inside her, but when she opened her mouth to speak, she reached for anger and defensiveness instead. 

"You went through my things? While I was sleeping?!"

He gave a short laugh. "I went through your things weeks ago. How else could I know what you intended?"

"By asking me!"

The Darkling waved a hand through the air. "This was a far more efficient way to learn your true feelings. More telling as well. I must say, your fixation on the tracker is troubling, to say the least." His voice was mocking as he said, "Why would you want to be with me when you could be an _otkzat'sya_'s plaything?" 

Alina glared at him, but he continued on in spite of her anger. 

"I've read those letters, Alina. Every word. I have seen how little you think of me. And how little you think of yourself. You would stifle your powers for him. You would shove your light away to become a nothing, a nobody, just so some peasant would feel _safe_ around you?" He hissed those last words. "And then, when he died or he pushed you away, only then would you come crawling back to me." 

Alina reeled in horror at the idea that he had read the things she'd put down on paper in her anger and fear and loneliness. She tried desperately to think of something to say to salvage a conversation that was spinning out of control.

He cocked his head to the side to watch her, considering. "Perhaps you are wrong about the tracker hating you now," he mused. "You are quite convincing when you lie--even I could almost be convinced. You could tell him that I kept you locked in your room against your will. That we never touched. That you never gave yourself to me again and again.” Then he smiled, and it was an ugly thing. "But maybe I am the one who is wrong. Maybe he would be...merciful about your indiscretions. Maybe he would not take you for a Grisha whore." 

Alina drew in a sharp breath. For a moment she thought she would cross the room and slap him. For a moment she thought he would take it back. 

But he didn't. 

They stared at each other across the table, and her voice was deathly quiet as she said, "Go fuck yourself, Aleksander."

When she turned away from him, she was trying desperately not to cry in rage and hurt. Reaching the door, she pushed the canvas flap roughly aside and stepped through, stumbling into a guard before righting herself. She thought she might have heard Aleksander call her name from within his cursed bedchamber, but she didn't care if he did, and she didn't stop. 

He had pushed her too far, and now she would run to the ends of the earth if she must. Anything to be away from him. And as she did so--as she fled from him toward her room--she trailed pieces of a broken heart behind her.


	20. Chapter 20

Sweeping past the entryway to Aleksander's quarters, Alina realized she was practically running through the Grisha tent. People were staring as she swiped angrily at the tears streaming down her face. She couldn't hold them back anymore, and a dull wave of shame and embarrassment swept through her, adding to the swirl of emotions she already felt.

When she reached the door to her room, she gave a small cry of relief. The need to hide away and sob into her pillow was almost overwhelming. She tried to think of a way to repair the breach of trust between herself and the man who had hurt her because he was so obviously hurt himself. Nothing came into her mind, though, and the fledgling feelings that she was so sure had been growing between them seemed as if they must wither away into nothing.

It was only in this moment that she realized just how much their relationship had meant to her.

Alina's face felt puffy and tear-stained when she finally arose from her bed, deciding that she could no longer afford to wallow in her unhappiness. Gathering her resolve, she walked toward the brazier in the middle of the room. She stretched her hand out over the shallow dish, and she could feel the intense heat rippling off the coals and the leaping flames. Reaching into her _ kefta_, she pulled out the stack of letters and slowly began to feed them one by one into the fire, her hands shaking all the while.

As each one blazed up, she thought of what it said and what Aleksander had read in its contents.

_I hate him..._

_He is a monster..._

_I'll never give up on you, Mal..._

The words went on and on, a litany of mistrust and contempt. How had he felt as he read those words? There had been anger in his reaction, of course, but she was convinced that more emotions lay beneath that simple response. He was more complex than any man she had ever known, and surely there had been just as much despair in his heart that she refused to see him as someone worthy of her love and compassion--of her affection, even. But affection was what she felt for him when she thought of the small steps he had made towards her away from the darkness. There was that simple feeling for him in her heart, it was true, but something deeper there as well that she couldn't put a name to yet.

And now it was all destroyed.

The thought made Alina uneasy, and she decided to try to turn her mind to something else. Perhaps with enough time, they could see if they would be able to possibly patch over the wounds they had inflicted on each other. Time healed a lot of things, and words spoken in anger was one of them. She nodded to herself and resolved to return to him later in the day when their emotions would be less ragged and frayed. 

As Alina tried to think of what she could do to pass the time, she heard the sound of the cloth flap at the entrance rustling. She glanced upwards eagerly, wondering if Aleksander had possibly come to her himself to apologize.

Instead, Katya entered with a small pile of laundered and folded clothes in her arms. The girl almost dropped them when she saw Alina.

"Katya," Alina began, unhappy to see that the maid steadfastly refused to make eye contact with her.

“How are you?” Alina ventured. Here was another relationship she needed to repair. She would be getting a lot of practice in rebuilding trust, it would seem. 

"I'm fine, my lady. Thank you."

Alina almost groaned. So they were back to "my lady" again.

"You know I never would have told the Darkling that you learned of his plans, don't you?” she entreated. “I just couldn't risk the lives of all of the Grisha if you decided to go to the King." 

After a moment, Katya said quietly, "You could have trusted me."

Alina winced. "I know. I could have. But I didn't. You're not Grisha. You don't have any loyalty to us."

"But I had loyalty to _you_, Alina. I thought you were my friend," the other girl said with the sharpness of pent-up frustration and hurt. They were feelings Alina recognized all too well.

"I'm sorry," she sighed. "If I had it to do over again, I would have handled things differently." She paused. "Do you believe me?"

Katya nodded, the anger in her blue eyes abating at Alina’s apology.

Alina looked around her, and at that moment, she couldn't stand to stay one more second in the Grisha tent. "Do you want to get out of here for a while?" she asked.

Katya nodded again. "More than anything."

"Let's go, then."

The two women bundled up before they left Alina's room. As they did so, Alina looked back at the remains of her letters, feeling freer now that they were burned to ash. There was still a long way to go to fix what she and Aleksander had broken, but Alina felt relief that at least her friendship with Katya was on the mend. 

She would fix things with Aleksander next. 

There was no other choice. Even if she didn't care for him--which she did--she still had to convince him to help her to use _merzost_ and to destroy the Fold before their enemies arrived. It was true that their relationship wouldn't be the same after their brutal argument, but perhaps they could use that anger to forge something greater than what had been there before. 

She could only hope it would be so.

It was a very different experience to see the camp in the harsh light of a winter day. Snowflakes drifted down around rows of tents that were much smaller than those which housed the Grisha high command. All of the dwellings were laid out in neat, orderly rows, but there was still an air of chaos around the scene. Color and movement swirled everywhere Alina looked. The reds and blues and purples of the _kefta_ and the array of bodies moving toward food lines or guard duty contrasted with the clumps of people gathered in conversation. There was the hush of nervous anticipation mixed with the shouts of laughter and raised voices all melding into a babble that beat at her ears. 

Alina's breath steamed in the air. The temperature seemed to have plunged during the night. Maybe she would have noticed if she had been an ordinary Grisha sleeping in a regular dwelling, but her status as the Sun Summoner meant she'd been pampered once more by staying in the grand tent. Not to mention, her exertions with Aleksander had been...strenuous to say the least. She blushed to think of it now.

Trying to shake off visions of what they had done together, she muttered, "I don’t know about you, but I could use some peace and quiet." 

Katya nodded, and they began to head toward the edge of the camp and into Kribirsk itself. Alina couldn’t help but notice that they had picked up a guard. She was tempted to try to shake him off as they moved amidst the crowd so she and the maid could walk and talk in peace, but it seemed foolish to take such a risk. What if the old threats of spies and assassins had a grain of truth to it? 

The encampment nudged up right to the edge of Kribirsk, but the town’s center was relatively free of Grisha. The strict habits of the Second Army still ran strong, and the taverns and brothels seemed to only have local citizens filling them. Alina and Katya passed one of these establishments where women waited on the porch in hopes of luring in those who would pay for companionship, and Alina couldn't stop herself from running Aleksander's words through her mind as if she were helplessly prodding a sore tooth with her tongue. His words were still painful, and she wondered if he really thought of her as a whore or if he honestly thought Mal would see her that way. Or maybe if it had just been a calculated attempt to wound her after the night they'd shared.

He would just have to explain it himself the next time she saw him, she thought grimly. He had a lot to apologize for. But so did she. She would assure him that her feelings were changing and that she hadn't meant the things she had written. Well...not quite _all_ of what she had written, anyway. He wasn’t innocent of wrongdoing, after all.

As she looked around, Alina wondered where the First Army soldiers who had been stationed here might have gone. Had they been called away from the town and redeployed elsewhere when Aleksander began to put his plans into motion? Or was there a mass grave filled with their bodies somewhere on the edges of the Fold? The latter seemed more likely, and the subdued mood displayed by those hurrying in and out of the shopfronts suddenly appeared to her in a different light.

Katya looked around with open curiosity, completely unaware of Alina's dark thoughts. They moved toward the farther side of the town, and before Alina could ask the other girl where she wanted to go or what she wanted to do, a shout sounded behind them. Both women whirled to see where the noise had come from, and Alina relaxed to see that it was just Katya's brother Valentin approaching them.

Valentin spoke briefly with their _oprichnik_ guard once he had caught up with them, and the nameless man gave Alina a nod and turned back to the Grisha camp. Katya eyed her brother, and Alina wondered if they had resolved their arguments about his role in keeping her a prisoner of the Darkling. It didn't seem as if they had come to any kind of resolution, because Katya crossed her arms and asked sharply, "What do you want?"

Valentin glanced Alina's way as if embarrassed to air the siblings' dirty laundry around her. Too bad, Alina thought. If Katya wanted to blow off some steam by having a go at her brother, then she certainly wouldn't stop her.

"I asked to take this shift so I could see you. You're both well?" he asked them.

"Oh, just grand," Katya mocked.

A flush started up Valentin's neck. "I thought you might like to go to the church." He nodded at the small domed building ahead of them.

Katya grumbled an assent. "I _would_ like to go in," she said to Alina. "If you don't mind." 

Alina wasn't particularly pious herself, but she didn't want to keep Katya from her prayers if they would comfort the girl. "Of course I don't mind. I'll just stay outside."

"I'd feel better if we all went in," Valentin said.

Alina nodded. She understood that the _oprichnik_ couldn't let her out of his sight. Maybe he wanted to say a prayer for his sister and himself inside the little church. Who could say?

When they entered, it took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dim light. A few candles burned in tall stands set along the aisles, and the whitewashed walls seemed almost to glow. There wasn't much in the way of decoration, but the building was obviously kept in good repair by the assortment of pilgrims who stopped by before they travelled across the Fold. None of those pilgrims seemed to be there now, though. The church was entirely empty except for what looked like two men seated in one of the pews ahead of them. When Alina glanced around to look at the few painted icons and a bronze screen set before the chapel, she could have sworn she saw a man hovering outside each of the exits and entrances to the building.

Alina couldn't put her finger on what it was about the scene before her, but something felt...wrong. It almost looked as if the men were standing guard. She looked again. They were all casting surreptitious glances her way, and Alina's blood ran cold. She turned to Katya and Valentin, unsure of what to say, but intent on leaving as soon as possible. Before she could take Katya's arm, a voice cried out harshly. 

"Alina!"

Her head jerked toward the sound, and she saw that one of the two men sitting in the pew in front of them had gotten to his feet and had turned to look at her. She would recognize that face anywhere. 

It was Mal.

"Mal?" she said, hesitantly, as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing.

"I'm here, Alina," Mall said in a reassuring tone.

"I see that, but..._what_ are you doing here?" she asked helplessly.

"I'm here to rescue you," he declared.

Alina tried and failed to hold in a small laugh. "To rescue me? But I don't need rescuing."

Mal shook his head. "It's okay. You don't have to be afraid anymore. We're going to get you out of here."

"Who's 'we?' And what are you talking about?"

Mal ignored her, turning to the man next to him who had also stood and turned to face her. Alina could see that the man had reddish hair and a nose that appeared to have been broken so many times that it was almost painful to look at.

"We're ready," Mal said. "I'll take Alina out the back door, and you take the guard and the girl with you."

Alina could feel her frustration growing to meet her curiosity. "Stop talking about me like I'm not here. And who is this?"

The ruddy-haired man swept a low bow as Mal left the pew to walk to Alina's side. 

"Sturmhond. At your service," he said gallantly.

Alina stared at him. "The pirate?!"

Sturmhond looked thoughtful. "I prefer the term 'privateer' if it's all the same to you."

"Mal--" she began.

He cut her off. "Alina. We don't have time for this. The Darkling could find out we're here at any minute. Come with me, and I'll get you away from him."

Alina shook her head. "No," she said slowly. "We have plenty of time, because _I'm not going anywhere_. You still haven't told me what this is all about."

Mal sighed. "I know, ok, Alina? I know what the Darkling is trying to do. I know I shouldn't have left you with him. You didn't mean what you said back there at the palace with the stag. Maybe you were just trying to keep me from getting hurt, but now it's my turn to take care of you." He put a hand on her shoulder. "The King has signed a treaty with Fjerda and the Shu. Everything is going to be alright now, and Sturmhond and I are going to get you away from here before the armies get here."

Alina stared at him, and then the words began to fall quickly from her lips. “You don’t understand, though. The Darkling…the peace treaty…Things are not the way that they seem. The King has done something terrible, Mal, and the Grisha are going to be killed if I don’t stay and fight!”

Mal didn't say anything for a long moment.

Alina pulled back from him. "But you knew that," she said slowly. "Because you're First Army."

He nodded. "Come back with me, Alina. The King has promised you'll be pardoned. It's not your fault that the Darkling dragged you here along with him."

"He didn't drag me here! I came to help. Even if I went back with you, you can't tell me you're alright with the rest of the Grisha being slaughtered and sold as slaves. Tell me that's not what you want."

Mal sighed heavily. "It's not what I want, but it's what's going to happen. And my job is to make sure none of that happens to you. You're coming with me."

"I'm not! I have to save my people! I can't just run off with you and some pirate--"

"Privateer," Sturmhond interjected.

Alina waved him off.

"Whatever you think is going to happen here, Mal, you can think again. Come on, Valentin." She turned to look at the _oprichnik_, ready to rely on his rifle so they could go back out the way they'd come in, but his face was stony. Katya kept looking helplessly between Alina and Valentin and their would-be "rescuers" as if she was unsure what part she was supposed to play in the drama unfolding around them.

Valentin shook his head. "I'm sorry, Alina. I'm taking my sister and we're getting out of here. All of us."

Alina gaped at him. Of course. It had been his idea to go to the church in the first place. Valentin was working with the First Army. Oh the irony of all the times she'd hoped he would help her escape in the days she'd first met him. Now that it was happening, a sick wave of horror crashed over her as she thought about what the Grisha stood to lose if she wasn't at Aleksander's side when the combined might of three armies fell upon them.

Sturmhond cleared his throat. "We really should be going now."

Summoning her light in a golden blaze that lit up the church around her, Alina said, "I don't know how many times I need to say it, but I'm not going anywhere."

The privateer pulled out a gun, although his other hand reached out toward her as if to calm her. His voice was smooth and reasonable as he said, "We have a carriage outside. You're going to get in it." She heard a small click as he cocked the gun. "I'm willing to be very persuasive." 

But Alina had faced the Darkling, and nobody did 'threatening' as well as he did. What do you know? she thought. Apparently, she was becoming immune to threats when they came from anyone else now. 

Alina shook her head. "That's not going to happen. Try it, and I'll cut you in half." 

Sturmhond shook his head. "I really wish you hadn't said that."

Before she could respond, Alina felt an arm snake around her waist, pulling her against a hard chest. A hand covered her mouth with a cloth, and she heard Mal's voice from behind her saying, "I'm sorry it had to be this way, Alina."

She sucked in a breath to get enough air to tell him to go to hell, but as she did so, a sharp odor filled her nostrils. In moments, it felt like her world was spinning and shattering into a thousand pieces. She felt herself going limp in Mal's arms. As darkness descended, she could have sworn she heard Katya’s scream, but it was coming from a very long distance away.

Her last thought was, "Not like this." And then darkness descended.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all again for the encouragement! My readers are amazing :) This chapter is woefully lacking in Aleksander, but sometimes that's the way it goes.

Consciousness returned slowly. 

Alina kept her eyes closed as she assessed her surroundings and her physical state. Her head felt like it was stuffed with heavy cotton wool, and there was a bad taste in her mouth along with a lingering smell of something harsh stuck to her clothes. Beyond that, the creaking and jostling suggested she was in a carriage--probably the one Sturmhond had talked about. One of the wheels bounced over a frozen rut in the road, and she realized she was laying on something soft with a blanket covering her to keep her warm despite the chill in the air that she could detect whenever she breathed in.

Opening her eyes warily, she confirmed that she was in fact inside a carriage. Valentin sat across from her. He was looking out the window with a weary and worried expression. Good, she thought with dark satisfaction. He _should_ be worried. Aleksander would surely be contemplating a painful death for anyone involved in her capture.

Aleksander. 

What would he think of her disappearance? Would he realize it was a kidnapping and deduce where she was being taken and who had taken her? Alina's heart fell as she realized he would most likely think she had run. Again. That she would always run just as his former love had. Despair filled her at the thought, but the conviction that he would come for her no matter what provided a sliver of relief. He needed her if he was to defeat the threat of the three armies advancing on the Fold. It should be easy enough to convince him whenever he arrived that her departure from Kribirsk had most definitely been against her will. And she had no doubt he would arrive. Nothing would keep him from achieving his goals, and for once she was grateful for that fact.

Feeling marginally better at the thought, Alina struggled to sit up. The blanket slipped from her shoulders, and she shivered at the cold that replaced it. She realized that she had been leaning against Katya's shoulder, and the other girl was fast asleep despite the bone-jarring jolts from the carriage that must have been what roused Alina. She pushed off from Katya's shoulder, and the maid awoke with a start.

"Alina?" she asked, her words thick with sleep. "Are you alright?"

How to even answer that question? Alina thought grimly. Valentin's eyes snapped toward them at Katya's words, and his hands flexed around the rifle he held across his lap. Great. One more obstacle to getting out of the carriage and getting away from whatever procession they were a part of.

"I'm fine," Alina answered, although her tone was harsh. "You have to let me out of here," she told Valentin, her gaze hard. "Take your sister to safety, but I need to get back to the Grisha."

The former _oprichnik_ shook his head. "The deal is that my sister and I will be pardoned as soon as we get you back to Os Alta." He paused. "I'm sorry for your friends, but I have to do what's best for my family."

Although she understood his motivations, it was hard to keep the rage at her helplessness locked inside of her. She turned on Katya. "Did you know?"

"That we were going to be rescued? No!"

"_You_ are being rescued," Alina corrected her. "But I am most definitely not." However, Alina still felt a little mollified that Katya had been just as much in the dark as she had been. She turned and looked out the window. Twilight was falling on the countryside. She must have been unconscious for hours. Unease began to creep over her. What if they were too far away from Kribirsk for Aleksander to pursue them? Perhaps she could somehow escape under cover of darkness and make her way back to him. It would be difficult, but she had to try.

Alina realized that she needed more information. Turning back to Valentin she demanded, "What do the King and the other nations plan to do?"

Valentin snorted. "You think any of them shared their plans with me? I'm the Darkling's guard who turned traitor. They may have left me with a gun, but I'm just as much a prisoner as you are until we get to the capital."

Alina fell silent, staring back out at the snowy landscape. Whatever the three nations’ leaders and their generals were planning, it wouldn't be good for her or her friends. A hint of relief came as she felt the carriage beginning to slow down. They must be making camp instead of driving night and day for the Grand Palace. It wasn't much of a break, but it would have to do. At least she would be able to see what they were up against if she got out of this Saints-forsaken carriage.

After what felt like an interminable length of time, the carriage door swung open, and Alina could see Mal outlined in the doorway. 

He held out a hand to Alina. "Come on," he said. 

She reluctantly took his hand and let him ease her down out of the vehicle and onto the frozen ground. When he let her go, she pulled her arm back and swung as hard as she could. Her fist connected with his jaw with a satisfying crack.

Mal staggered back, bringing his hand up to his face. His eyes were wide and startled. So he hadn't been paying attention to her anger before. Typical. He seemed hell-bent on "saving" her, and whether she wanted that or not didn't seem like much of a concern to him.

"Alina--" he began.

She cut him off as she started to call her power to her in a steady glow. "Save it, Mal. I don't want to hear it. You either let me go and help me get back to Kribirsk or I am going to lay waste to everything and everyone around me." She raised her hands as if threatening to perform the Cut.

Mal's eyes burned with anger. "You sound like _him_, you know that?"

Alina faltered at Mal's words. She wouldn't really kill those who stood in her path. Or would she? Too many people's lives depended on her getting back to the Fold. She had to do something, and pleading her case hadn't seemed to do much good. Mal knew what the Grisha were being threatened with, and he seemed perfectly willing to let it all happen. For that alone, she would never be able to forgive him for any of this.

The sound of guns being cocked surrounded her.

"Easy now," Mal said. Alina wasn't sure if he was talking to her or the figures she now sensed surrounded them. Valentin prodded his rifle into her back and two First Army soldiers with their guns drawn stepped forward around Mal. They looked very willing to fill her with some bullets. At least Valentin needed her to stay in one piece. These other men and women did not.

Alina dropped her arms, and rough hands grabbed her limbs, pulling them behind her back and binding her wrists. Her light continued to pour from her entire body in a steady glow. Someone shook her hard, and a harsh voice in her ear said, "Stop that."

It seemed like there would be no benefit to resisting at the moment, and she couldn't perform the Cut without her hands, so she released the hold on her power, dropping the area surrounding her back into twilight. Mal turned and led the way forward through what appeared to be a moderately-sized military encampment. She couldn't be sure where exactly they were along the road on the way to Os Alta, but this dirt track definitely wasn't the broad avenue of the Vy. This must be a stretch of the First Army's front line. Perhaps the plan was to meet up with the main encampment after spending the night here in what seemed to be the middle of nowhere. She would have to try to get some of the details out of Mal if he was willing to talk to her after being punched in the face.

Alina couldn't bring herself to feel sorry for hitting him. Not in the slightest after what he'd done to her.

Someone had erected a large tent or two in the middle of the campground, and Mal opened the canvas flap to one of the dwellings, gesturing for her to enter. When she moved to comply, whoever had hold of her wrists gave her a push that almost sent her sprawling accompanied by a hiss of "Grisha bitch." 

Alina struggled to her knees, trying to turn to see who had spoken, but Mal was already at her side and pulling her to her feet. He glared at whoever had shoved her and dragged her with him into the waiting tent.

"They don't seem to like me," Alina said wryly as they entered. Mal didn't say anything in return, just helped her to sit down on a small cot along the back wall of the tent. He seated himself in a chair next to a small table that held a lantern emitting a steady glow. These were the only furnishings in the room. Alina quickly divined from his expression that her arms would not be untied anytime soon.

They stared at each other in silence for a long while. Finally, Mal sighed. "You could at least pretend you're happy to see me."

Alina shrugged. "I _am_ happy to see you. But Mal…you know I can't stay here. You have to let me go."

He shook his head. "No way. I let that monster get his claws into you once, and look what happened. You're talking like him, you're acting like him, and who knows what else you're like now that you have that damned collar around your neck."

Alina bristled. "Maybe I've changed, Mal, but I've become what I needed to become to save the Grisha."

Mal snorted. "The Grisha," he mocked. "You weren't a Grisha until five minutes ago, and now you've turned your back on everything else you ever believed in."

"They're my people. I have to help them!"

"They're not your people. _I'm_ your people. I thought we only needed each other."

Alina snorted. "It hasn't been that way for a long time, and you know it. You paid me hardly any attention at all over the last several years until someone else took notice."

Mal shifted uncomfortably. "I deserve that. But I'm going to make it up to you. I'm going to take care of you from now on, Alina. I won't turn away again. Everything will be different. You'll see. We can go back to how it was before."

Alina groaned. "You know these people are never going to let me go. You've seen how they hate Grisha. They're probably going to kill me the first chance they get."

"I'd never let that happen," Mal retorted.

"And how exactly do you plan to stop an army of Fjerdans, Ravkans, and Shu Han singlehandedly?" Alina snapped. 

"Just do what they say, Alina, and it will all be fine."

"You know that's probably the most naïve thing you've ever said to me."

Mal flushed. "Well, what would you prefer? That you go back to the Darkling?"

"Yes!" she exclaimed. "That is exactly what I would prefer."

"Even though he's a traitor and a killer?"

Alina hesitated. "Yes, even though he's all those things," she said finally.

Mal ran a hand over his face. "What kind of a hold does he have over you?"

"It's not a hold," she protested. "I just know what I have to do. I can stop him, Mal. I can make him see things differently, and together we're going to save the Grisha from extinction. He's not what everyone thinks he is."

"Do you hear yourself? You make it sound like you're in love with that…that…” Mal shook his head. “I don’t even have a word terrible enough for what he is.” 

A wave of anger rose up inside her. "You don’t even know him. And no, I don't love him, but I do care for him despite what he is and what he's done." She may have been furious with Mal, but she decided the truth was something she couldn't hide from him. Her voice and her eyes dropped. "And I might be having his child." 

She had only slept with Aleksander a few times, but she wasn't ignorant of what it could mean for her. The thought had been rolling around in the back of her mind ever since she'd stormed out of his rooms, and now it came back to her in full force.

Mal stiffened at her words, and his expression was one of disgust and horror. Then he wiped the look from his face in a way that would have impressed the Darkling himself. "I don't care, Alina. If that did happen, I'd take care of it like it was my own."

Her control snapped. "I don't _want_ you to take care of it. What I _want_ is to go back to Kribirsk."

"Back to the Fold and back to him, you mean," Mal spat.

Yes! I want to go back to him. I choose him, Mal. Him!"

Mal shot to his feet as if he couldn't stand to stay in the same room as her any longer.

Alina glared at him. "And if you don't help me, you're going to be very sorry when he gets here. Because he is going to come for me. Make no mistake about that."

"Easy now, Sun Summoner. That's what we're counting on," a voice drawled from the tent's entrance, interrupting their confrontation.

Alina's gaze snapped upwards. A man who looked vaguely familiar stood before them. His dark gold hair caught the lantern light and glinted as if she had cast her power over and around him in a halo. Hazel eyes sat over a slightly crooked nose and a mouth that was curved in a charming smile. She noticed he wore the uniform of a First Army soldier, although his insignia placed him as a high ranking one.

"Who the hell are you?" she demanded bluntly.

"Nikolai Lantsov, at your service." He executed a low, slightly mocking bow. The cadence of his words and the gesture reminded her of someone. 

The man from the church. Sturmhond. So the infamous pirate was really a prince of Ravka? She couldn't bring herself to care at the moment.

"So what do you want?" she demanded.

"What do I want?” he asked, his voice going serious. “Peace and prosperity for Ravka."

"Peace forged on top of mass murder, you mean."

Nikolai shook his head. "Not if I have my way. My father has his own plans, and I have mine."

"And what do those plans entail?"

"For the Grisha? Well. If my father and the other rulers in the Alliance succeed, then the Grisha will be destroyed. "

Alina swallowed.

Nikolai went on, unheeding of her worry. "They intend to pin your army up against the Fold from the front and then fall on you from either side." 

There would be destruction all around them, Alina thought. If the Grisha tried to flee the guns and bombs, they would be running straight into the waiting arms and teeth of the volcra. Even with Aleksander at the head of his soldiers, it would be a massacre.

She felt sick. As she pushed images of her friends being killed out of her mind, she remembered what the prince had said when he'd entered.

"You're...counting on the Darkling coming for me?"

Nikolai nodded, smiling once more. "And now we arrive at _my_ plan. When the Darkling gets here tonight or tomorrow to rescue his fair maiden, he's going to run straight into my entire regiment who will be armed to the teeth. I've created some very exciting modifications to their weapons. Once he's been contained and neutralized, I'll take you to my father and broker an agreement between the Grisha and the Crown."

"What kind of agreement?"

"One where the Grisha swear fealty to the Alliance and we forge ahead with finding a way to live together. There will no longer be a Second Army, of course. And there will have to be some kind of control placed on Grisha power, but there won't have to be the kind of bloodshed that seems so inevitable. Your people can be a powerful resource to draw upon. The Kerch have a process of indenture that might be something we could emulate and we could work with the Shu to create a way to contain Grisha abilities."

Alina scowled at him. "I was under the impression that the Kerch sold us as slaves and the Shu were interested in dissecting us like lab rats."

The prince gave a rueful smile. "It's not a perfect plan, Ms. Starkov. But I've had limited time, and it's better than what's on offer right now." He sobered. "I have friends and comrades who are Grisha. I don't want to see an entire race of people destroyed for no reason."

"There's plenty of 'reason.' Most of your First Army soldiers hate and fear us, and your citizens aren't far behind." Alina knew she was sounding more than a little like Aleksander when she accused those who weren't Grisha of holding old prejudices, but she couldn't help it. It was easy to feel powerless right now. Besides, she didn't know Nikolai Lantsov, and she didn't trust him. Pushing back on whatever he had to say might make him reveal more than he intended. 

Before she could question him further, the tent flap opened. A dark-haired girl who looked like she had Shu in her background stuck her head in. "Scouts just sent word that they've spotted signs of Grisha. The enemy force is almost here."

The prince nodded. "Thank you, Tamar. Stay here with Oretsev and guard the Sun Summoner. Time to see if we're as much of a match for the Darkling as I think we are."

"_Da, kapitan_." 

As she entered the tent fully, Tamar shot Alina a look that was hard to interpret. Alina didn't have room in her head to contemplate what a member of Lantsov's forces saw when they looked at her, though. All her thoughts were of Aleksander and how she could try to help him and herself. There had to be a way.

She refused to have this be an end for them both and an end for their people. Somehow, they would find a way to beat their foes and find that new world they needed so badly. It seemed impossible at the moment, but Alina would just have to have faith. It didn't sit well with her, but she would bide her time. And when it was time to strike, she would make sure that her aim was true.


	22. Chapter 22

Mal joined Tamar at the door to the tent, and as they stepped outside to guard the entrance, each sent a look back over their shoulder as if to make sure Alina wasn’t going anywhere. For her own part, Alina felt more relieved than she could say that she was finally alone and could take stock of what resources she had at hand.

Her feeling of relief abandoned her, however, when she realized just how limited those resources actually were.

The ropes were bound tight around her hands, and although she could raise a faint glow upon her skin, there was no way to truly channel her power without her full range of motion. The tent was also devoid of anything that could be put to use for a daring escape. Besides the cot, the table and chair were really the only things at hand. Even the lantern was fairly useless except as a light source. What could she actually do with it even if she could somehow get it open and have access to the flame inside? Burn her ropes off and burn herself in the process? No, she thought. As frustrating as the thought was, she would just have to wait and hope that her captors would be defeated.

Right on cue, the sounds of a high wind as if from a hurricane rocked through the camp, causing a rushing sound to surround her tent and making the tent flap slap against itself. She could imagine Mal and Tamar must be having a hard time keeping their feet.

It could only be Squallers. They were here. Aleksander and his forces were here.

Her heart leapt at the thought, and as the sound of cries and screams rose in the distance, Alina rattled through who else would be on the battle lines for the Grisha. There would be Inferni, their arms raking fire across the enemy lines, burning all in their path. The Corporalki would be just as deadly, if less ostentatious about it as they wrung the life from the hearts of their enemies. Even the Fabrikators would have contributed with weapons and blasting powders. She had nothing to worry about. It was likely a small group of fighters to be able to travel so quickly, but the power and the odds should rest squarely with the Grisha.

And then there was Aleksander himself. How could anyone hope to stand against him? Nikolai Lantsov would soon see that he'd made a terrible mistake in drawing that kind of wrath upon himself. A sense of satisfaction rolled over her. Aleksander really had come for her just as she had expected. In moments, this would all be over and they would be on their way back to the Fold and the true battle ahead, where Alina would do whatever needed to be done to save her people. She could be patient.

But as she listened, something seemed…off. The sound of gunfire began as the prince's troops responded to the Grisha's first volley. It was gunfire the likes of which she had never heard before, and it came in deafening bursts. The barrels must have been producing shells at a dizzying pace. Then the explosions started in earnest. The ground rumbled and heaved beneath her, and the lanterns swayed, casting wild shadows on the walls and across Alina's face. It sounded as if the world itself was about to come to a fiery end.

Her stomach started to churn as the screams and cries began to die down, as did the sound of the wind. It was almost as if she could see each Grisha life as it was targeted and then snuffed out by Nikolai Lantsov’s weapons with their “modifications.” Alina squeezed her eyes shut and fought hard against the feeling, but she couldn’t stop the cold shadow of doubt that had begun to slide across her soul. Surely Aleksander would win. He had to win. But when silence fell and then the slow, building roar of cheering started several moments afterwards, she had to admit to herself that it did not sound good. Not good at all.

Before she could gather herself and the ragged emotions flooding through her, the tent flap flew open and Tamar and Mal entered. Mal walked straight up to Alina until he stood towering over her. His eyes blazed with triumph as he spat out the terse words, “He lost.” With that, Alina felt her rage rising up inside her once more. Mal must have felt it radiating off of her, because his voice was hard as he said, "Do the right thing, Alina. Choose us."

The tent flap opened again, cutting off her snarled response, and Aleksander stepped inside. Alina stared at him. His hands were bound behind him, and there was a cut across one of his cheeks that was slowly oozing blood. The prince entered directly after him.

Despite his obvious defeat and injury, Aleksander's eyes were calm and his expression cool. Alina was watching very carefully, and she could see how his shoulders tightened when he saw Mal standing beside her. She could easily guess his thoughts: that his worst fear had been realized. That she had abandoned him in favor of the tracker. When his eyes took in her stormy expression and the fact that her hands were tied behind her back, she sensed that tension ebb out of him as quickly as it had appeared.

He met her eyes, his gaze intense as he asked, "Are you well?"

Alina opened her mouth to answer that she was fine, but Mal cut her off. "Don't talk to her," he exclaimed. "Alina's not yours anymore. She's with us now."

Aleksander took in Mal's words, and then his mouth moved upwards in a slow, mocking smile. "Yes," he mused. "I can tell you have been very persuasive in allying her to your cause what with her being tied up. I see your charms are not what they once were, tracker." He shook his head, but his eyes glowed with a vicious pleasure. "Such a pity."

Mal stepped towards Aleksander, his fists clenched as if he would strike the other man.

"Stand down, Oretsev," the prince barked, a warning note in his voice.

"I don't answer to you," Mal snapped, his eyes still on Aleksander's face.

"Last time I checked, you were First Army. So yes, you do still answer to me. And I'm telling you now that it's time for you to go."

Mal jerked his gaze to his commander's. For a moment, Alina thought he would argue with the prince, but finally he strode to the door and pushed his way out of the tent with a muffled curse.

"Now then," Aleksander said. "Let us discuss the terms of our release." He sounded as calm as if he had just asked for a cup of tea instead of the most unlikely thing in the world.

"Not quite yet," the prince said with a small smile, his hands in his pockets. "There's something I need from Alina first." He looked toward Tamar who stood off to the side. Alina had forgotten she was even there.

Nikolai nodded. "Now."

Tamar raised her hands, and a look of concentration came over her face. Aleksander's eyes widened in response to the girl’s gesture, and then he faltered, bending double before slowly collapsing to the ground. Alina could only stare in horrified amazement.

Tamar was a Heartrender. She was Grisha.

The prince must have read Alina's expression. "See?" he said with a wink, "I told you I have friends and comrades who are Grisha."

"You said you wanted something from me," she said sharply, as she stared hard at Aleksander's body to ensure he was still breathing. "What is it?"

Nikolai and Tamar dragged Aleksander into a sitting position and placed him with his back up against the cot next to Alina. As they worked, the prince talked.

"What I want from you is something that I think can be mutually beneficial for both of us." He finished propping Aleksander up and took a seat in the chair across from her. "You may not have had the time to think too far ahead about what the future holds for you, but you should start to consider your rather limited options. If my father has his way, then you'll be kept alive long enough to destroy the Fold or you'll end your days ferrying sandskiffs through the Fold to the True Sea, whichever comes first."

"And if you have your way?"

"There would be a very charming throne in your future should you decide you could be persuaded to marry me."

Alina blinked before proceeding to stare at him. "You want me to marry you?!" She paused. "Does Mal know that?"

The prince grinned. "I don't think Oretsev needs to know every tiny detail of my plan."

"Why on earth would you want to marry me?" she demanded.

He cocked his head. "You may not know this, but the people are calling you '_Sol Koroleva_' and saying prayers in your honor. There are pilgrims willing to take up arms for you, for Saints' sake. That's no small thing, Ms. Starkov. If you and I were to become allies--to become the king and queen of Ravka--then we could open up a new age for this country's future for both your people and for mine."

_Sol Koroleva_. Sun Queen. It sounded ridiculous, Alina thought. But what if there really were pilgrims and others willing to flock to her and her vision of a new world? Who was she to stop them? Everything could be different just as she had hoped for. Visions of what the future could hold began to swim in front of her, and with an effort, she pulled herself back into the here and now.

"You're not the one in line for the throne," she reminded Nikolai dryly.

"Yes," he said, his face clouding. "But my father is unwell thanks to Genya Safin, and my brother Vasily could be persuaded to step down with the right incentives."

He'd really thought this through. That gave Alina pause. "What about him?" she asked, her eyes sliding to Aleksander's still body that was leaning up next to her.

"The Darkling?" The prince looked her squarely in the face, his expression suddenly serious. "I will be honest with you, Alina. He's probably going to be at the end of a firing squad as soon as we get back to the main camp. If I was smart, I would shoot him myself right now and be done with it rather than risk letting him escape. He'll put my father in a very, very good mood, though. And I definitely want him to be in that good mood when I ask him to spare the Grisha."

Alina was quiet for a long moment. "I'll think about it," she said finally, understanding that she needed as much time as she could get.

Nikolai nodded. "That's all I ask." He walked to the door. "You don't have very long to think about this offer, though. I'll need to hear your answer by tomorrow morning."

Alina nodded, watching his broad back as he left the tent, then she blew out a long breath. Saints, they were in the deep end. She had no intention of marrying that man. That was just something she'd said to give herself more time to come up with a way to get Aleksander and herself out of there. And there had to be a way to do that. There just had to.

She watched Aleksander as he slept, his face smooth except for a small furrow between his brows. "What are we going to do?" she quietly asked him before leaning over and kissing his forehead. She hadn't been lying to Mal. Her words had been rash, but they were honest. She _had_ chosen Aleksander. She'd felt it as soon as she had burned those letters.

A sense of resolve filled her. She had to get them out of the camp and back to the Grisha. Trusting the King to spare her people seemed like wishful thinking, despite Nikolai’s obvious plotting.

And what about the rest of what she'd told Mal? That she might be having Aleksander’s child? That child would be an heir to darkness and light. The thought should have terrified her, but for some reason it didn't. Perhaps she could give him the things he had once wanted with that other woman--the marriage and children that had almost pulled him away from his plans. True, she thought, those things may make him more power-hungry than ever in an attempt to keep those closest to him safe, but what if they didn't?

Alina had never thought she would have a future like that. She'd assumed she would die young on a battlefield somewhere fighting one of the interminable Ravkan wars. Now she found that the idea of love and family appealed to her more than she could say. She tried to picture it... A life with him. What would it even look like? It would be difficult, there was no doubt, but it could also be all she'd ever wanted and more. Aleksander's pride and ambition were like living things within him, but maybe she could temper those aspects of him. Maybe she could soften him and strengthen him at the same time like a finely-honed sword.

All she had to do was love him. She wasn't sure if she could do that, but she also wasn't sure if she didn't already feel something like love for him. She wasn't sure of anything, if she was perfectly honest.

But first, they had to survive.

Looking up, she saw Tamar watching her. Tamar. Who was a Grisha. Surely there could be something to work with there.

"So, you're a Heartrender," she stated.

Tamar nodded.

"First Army?" Alina asked.

Tamar snorted. "Not a chance. I'm part of Sturmhond's crew."

Alina took that information in. “And Nikolai has you and those who aren’t Grisha serving alongside each other. How does that work exactly?” she asked with a deep sense of curiosity.

"Surprisingly well," the girl admitted. "We complement each other with our talents."

"And they don't fear you?"

"Well, we don't have call to use our power that often, but no. The other crew members respect us."

"Who's us?"

"My brother Tolya and I. He's a Heartrender, too."

"But how did you create that kind of an environment—where everyone lives together?" 

Tamar shrugged. "Really, it makes all the difference to have a captain who brings everyone together instead of dividing people into First Army or Second Army like your Ravkan King or the Darkling. When you rely on each other for survival, you come to see very quickly that Grisha are willing to bleed for the same cause that you are."

"For freedom?"

Tamar laughed. "For money…when it comes to Sturmhond's crew, anyway."

Alina's answering smile was cynical, but she couldn't help asking, "But what would it take to form a new nation built on that kind of trust you're talking about?"

Tamar shook her head. "I don't know. Faith, maybe. Belief in something larger. And if someone could inspire that, I would choose to serve them with my whole heart." Her eyes were bright as she watched Alina.

Alina drew in a breath. "I want something like that. Something greater than us, where Grisha and non-Grisha could live together and work together. A new nation--a new world." 

Tamar's voice had a strange intensity to it as she asked, "And you would rule?"

Alina thought about it for a moment, then said slowly, "Yes. I think that is the plan." It was a part of Aleksander's plan, anyway. Maybe it could be part of hers as well. If we can just make it out of this tent, she thought.

Without hesitation, the other girl lowered herself to one knee in front of Alina, putting her fist over her heart and saying gruffly, "Then I am yours to command, _Sol Koroleva_."

Alina stared in amazement. Sun Queen. This was indisputable evidence that there were those out there who would follow her. Who would see her sit on a throne. Maybe it didn't have to be the Ravkan throne. Maybe it could be a throne of her own making and the making of _merzost_.

"Release me," she demanded, feeling a little strange to be giving orders, but also trying to accept that if she was to create this new world, that she would need to get used to being imperious.

Tamar pulled out a knife and, moving behind her onto the cot, she cut Alina's bonds. Pulling her hands free from the remains of the ropes, Alina brought them in front of her and began to rub feeling back into her wrists.

"Thank you," she nodded. "Now him, too," she said, pointing to Aleksander.

Tamar hesitated.

Alina's brows raised. "If you wish to serve me, then you will need to obey me in all things."

"Yes, my queen," Tamar responded, and she gingerly pushed Aleksander forward so that she could cut through the ropes tying him as well.

Alina smiled in relief before growing serious again. "We need to escape. Both of us. I'm relying on you to make that happen, Tamar."

Tamar nodded. "My brother and I can get you out. It will be difficult, but we will do it." She rose to go. "I'll be back as soon as I've made arrangements."

Alina nodded, watching Tamar take her leave. Hope had begun to blossom inside of her. They could do it. But first, she needed to wake Aleksander up and get him up to speed on what was happening. She didn't think they could just throw him over Tamar's brother's shoulder like a sack of grain. The image made her give a slightly hysterical giggle at the thought of how bruised Aleksander's ego would be if that were to happen. 

She reached over and pushed an unruly lock of his hair from his face. The cut on his cheek had stopped bleeding, at least. Luckily, he didn't seem to have more pressing injuries. Just as she was about to shake him or slap him or do anything else that would seem like it would wake him up, the tent flap opened. Alina felt surprise that Tamar was returning so quickly.

But then Katya stepped inside.

The maid took one look at Alina and the cut ropes surrounding her and Aleksander, and she dropped the blanket she'd been carrying. As she backed towards the tent's entrance, Alina held her hands up. Katya flinched, as if afraid Alina would use her powers on her. Quickly, Alina dropped her hands and said, "Wait. Katya, please! Just wait!"

The other girl slowed, although her hand was touching the flap, ready to push it out of the way to make her escape. "What's going on?" she whispered. "Why are you free?"

"I'm getting out of here. I can't stay here or I'll be trapped and the Grisha will die." Or she'd become Nikolai's Lantsov's princess, but nobody needed to know about that since it was never going to happen. "Come with me!" she exclaimed. "I'm going to build a kingdom and there's a place for you in it."

Katya looked pointedly at Aleksander's sleeping face. "Is there a place for him as well?"

Alina blushed. "Well...yes...but things will be different. I'll make sure of it."

The maid shook her head. "I'm sorry, Alina. You've said you wanted to change him, and I don't believe that's possible. I won't come with you." She paused. "But I won't tell anyone you're leaving, either."

Alina felt dismay at Katya's refusal to join her, but she was mollified by the girl's offer. "Thank you, Katya," she said fervently. "I'm sorry things turned out the way they did. What will you and your brother do?"

Katya nodded. "I'm sorry, too. But Valentin and I already made plans to run away from here and to make our way to Ulensk. We'll send for our family once we're there and we'll keep our heads down. Maybe we'll hide in the Petrazoi for a while." She gave a tremulous smile. "I hope you find what you're looking for with him, Alina. I really do. Because I think he could be the end of us all if you're not careful."

Alina nodded. "I hope I see you again someday."

The maid stepped toward her, and Alina rose to give her a hug. Then Katya left, giving Alina one last brief look. 

Once they were alone again, Alina dropped back down to the cot and turned her attention to Aleksander. She needed to wake him soon before Tamar and her brother returned.

Aleksander may not like it, but they had a lot to talk about regarding the future of the Grisha. And their own future as well.


	23. Chapter 23

Alina began to shake Aleksander lightly. When that didn't work, she lightly slapped his cheeks. At that, his eyelids began to flutter, and then she was looking into quartz eyes that were hazy with sleep and a little pain.

Giving a small exclamation, she pressed her lips fervently to his. "You're alright!"

"I seem to be," he said slowly before his head jerked up and he looked around the tent. "Where is the Heartrender?"

"Tamar? She's on our side, actually. Well...on my side, that is."

Aleksander arched a brow as he pushed himself up into a sitting position. "Forming your own army?"

"Something like that. She and her brother think I should rule. Because I'm the Sun Summoner."

"And now you believe in your destiny?" he asked. "I will have to thank them."

"They're going to help us escape, too."

"Then I will throw them a parade as well."

Alina eyed him. "Are you sure you didn't hit your head when she made you pass out? You never make jokes."

"I am in a startlingly good mood, Alina. What is the plan for our escape?"

Alina bit her lip. "Tamar didn't say. She's making 'arrangements,' though."

"I will take what I can get." He let a shadow curl around his hand, watching it snake over his fingers. He didn't meet her eyes as he said, "I thought you might have left me."

Alina glared at him, remembering their earlier argument. "I thought about it, but my walk to clear my head only gave Mal and Nikolai Lantsov the opportunity they were looking for. Bad timing."

"Extremely bad." He paused. "Alina. What I said..."

She cut him off. "Are you sorry you said it? Or did you mean it? Do you think I'm a 'Grisha whore'? Because if you do, I don't think there's anything more to say between us. I'll help you save the Grisha, but after that I'm walking away and taking my people with me."

He looked into her face. "I am sorry I said it. And I did not mean it. Perhaps I should have given you the chance to explain your letters." He crossed his arms. "And feel free to explain those letters at any time."

Now it was Alina's turn not to meet his eyes. "I was angry with you."

"Clearly," he said dryly.

She threw her hands up in irritation. "And maybe if you had done the right thing by me and not threatened the lives of my friends at every turn, then I wouldn't have felt that way. You could have just told me about the King's plans and we could have worked something out. You could have trusted me."

Aleksander inclined his head. "I could have. I apologize that I did not."

Two apologies in a matter of minutes. Would wonders never cease, she thought. "Alright,” she said slowly, mollified at his concessions. “Now that that's sorted out, how far away are the advancing armies from the Fold?"

He took the change of subject in stride. "They seem to have held off within a days' march from either side of our encampment."

"So, if you're here, then who's been left in charge?"

"Baghra." 

At Alina's expression, Aleksander's mouth lifted in a wry smile. "She is more capable of leading an army than she lets on. Every one of my generals are terrified of her."

"I can believe that," Alina said with a surprised laugh. She quieted. "I'm glad you came for me. I thought you would come, but still...I'm glad."

"I could not do what I need to do without you, Alina. And I find that I do not _want_ to do it without you. You do not wish to stay here with the tracker and the royal whelp, then?"

"No. I choose you," she said softly, taking his face in her hands. "I choose you, and I choose our people."

The look on his face was one of triumph and sweet relief.

"But I also choose the _otkazat'sya_."

His face tightened at that. "Alina--"

"Just listen to me. For once. There are people calling me a queen and pilgrims willing to fight for me. I would have them fight for _us_. I would have them come to us and live in peace with the Grisha. Tamar has seen how the Grisha and regular people can work together for the benefit of all if there’s a common goal. I want to at least try. So here is my ultimatum: You let me try to create a new land out of the Fold and we rule it together, or you fight for the throne of Ravka and you sit on that throne alone. Choose." She crossed her arms and waited, watching his stony expression.

Finally, Aleksander sighed. "Very well," he said grudgingly. "We will try it. But when the experiment fails, you will owe me something truly spectacular. And we will then employ any means necessary to gain the Ravkan throne and the rest of the continent."

She smiled slightly. "Yes, yes. Death and destruction if I fail. I can live with that. And it won't fail. You'll see." On these words, she leaned forward and pressed her mouth to his. He began to return her kiss, gently at first and then with more hunger, gripping the back of Alina's neck to hold her more firmly against him. It was as if they both had the need to conquer any fear and lingering resentment through feeling the harsh slide of their mouth against the other’s. 

Alina became aware of the sound of canvas rustling, and they had just enough time to break apart before Tamar entered the tent again. The girl looked back and forth between them and then cleared her throat, saying, "Sorry to interrupt. Tolya and I are ready if the two of you are."

"Quite ready," Aleksander said briskly, getting to his feet and reaching a hand down to help Alina stand.

Tamar leaned her head out the door and said a few words in Shu, then a man larger than anyone Alina had ever seen entered the tent to stand behind Tamar. He held a stack of clothing in his arms. "You must be Tolya," Alina said.

At her words, the large man got down on one knee. Dropping the pile of clothes, he pulled his sleeves up to show her the large sun tattoos covering his arms. "_Sol Koroleva_," he said with fervent deference. 

Aleksander eyed him with raised brows and then nudged Alina with his elbow, as she stared helplessly at Tolya. "Rise," she said finally. "And thank you both for aiding us. I will not forget your loyalty."

The brother and sister looked proudly at each other before Tamar said, "We brought First Army uniforms for you to wear. Between that and the darkness, it should help us get you to the edge of camp. There's a horse waiting for you there. I know it's dark out, but if you can keep off the road and to the trees, there will be less chance of you being followed if the alarm is raised."

"The dark will not be a problem," Aleksander said calmly.

"Won't you come with us?" Alina asked them.

Tamar shook her head. "We'll stay here since it would look suspicious if there wasn't someone standing guard outside your tent. When morning comes, we'll make it look like someone smuggled you a knife and you cut a hole in the back of the tent to escape that way. I think that's better than Tolya's plan of making it look like you overpowered us."

Alina eyed Tolya's massive form. It would have been very difficult to subdue him without resorting to the Cut if they had really faced him in battle in an attempt to escape. Thank goodness they're both on our side, she thought.

The siblings left the tent as Alina and Aleksander began to change out of their _kefta_ and into the First Army uniforms. It felt strange to be back in the clothes she had once worn every day when she had no idea she was Grisha. Now it was with a pang in her heart that she set aside the beautiful fur-lined garment Aleksander had given her. She hoped there was a way to bring it with her, and she folded it along with Aleksander's into a small bundle.

"Ready?" she asked him a moment later, enjoying the rare opportunity to see him in rather tight-fitting pants and a coat. He looked good where the fabric hugged his legs and arms. She smiled. "The First Army look suits you."

Aleksander grimaced and gestured her toward the tent flap. As Alina climbed out, she realized just how large the surrounding camp was and how hard it would have been to sneak out dressed in their regular Grisha attire. 

Tamar nodded in satisfaction at seeing them in the light from a lantern hanging over the front of the tent. "That's better," she said. "Just put your _kefta_ in these bags." She held up two saddlebags, and Alina stashed the coats inside. 

"Now let's get you out of here," Tamar said, slinging the saddlebags over her shoulder.

They wove their way through the enemy lines, following their rescuers around campfires and a multitude of tents. Luckily, it seemed as if everyone wanted to be out of the cold, and the celebrations over the Darkling's capture seemed to be happening within those tents. Alina could hear the clink of bottles and rough shouts that made her want to jump, worrying that somebody was raising the alarm. But just when she thought she was going to climb out of her skin in nervous anticipation, Aleksander reached out and took her hand. A calming rush of power flooded through her, soothing her frayed nerves. She squeezed his hand in thanks, and she could imagine the small smile that would quirk his lips at the thought that she was accepting and desiring to feel such a touch.

Most of the soldiers scarcely gave them a second glance. Tolya was not inconspicuous in the slightest, but it seemed the First Army had grown used to Sturmhond's crew. They passed the picket lines where the majority of the horses were tied up, and then passed three massive military tanks that must have been what the prince had used to create the thunderous explosions when he fought the small force of Grisha only a few hours earlier. 

Entering the trees with quick steps, Alina saw Aleksander’s midnight horse tied to a branch, its breath steaming in the cold as it snorted and stamped. She turned to Tolya and Tamar who waited alongside the horse.

"Thank you," she said. "I am in your debt."

The pair bowed, and Tamar said, "We were only doing our duty, my queen. Just tell us what we can do if there's anything else you need."

Alina paused. "There is something you can do, actually."

The pair looked at her expectantly, as did Aleksander.

She took a breath. "I want you to send messages to the groups of pilgrims who follow me. Tell them that I want them to come to the Fold as quickly as they can. And as they go, have them spread the word to every village that all are welcome in my kingdom, whether they are Grisha or not. They will have a home with me as long as they want one, and it will be one where all will have a place and all are cared for--young and old, sick and healthy."

She could feel Aleksander's disapproval rolling off of him in waves, but he remained silent. Apparently, his word was good when it came to letting her try her "experiment." With a nod to Tolya and Tamar, Aleksander leapt onto the back of the stallion and then pulled Alina up to sit in front of him. Tolya untied the reins and handed him the leather straps. Without another word or glance, he put his heels to the horse's sides, and they began to move through the trees into the darkness.

Alina pressed her back firmly against his chest and reveled in the feel of his arms around her, his thighs bracketing her body. The path wasn't easy since they'd left the dirt road, but thankfully there was enough light for the horse to pick its way among the trees under Aleksander's guidance and the light of the moon. They made their way southwest back toward the Fold and Kribirsk, and the hours passed by in relative silence besides his murmured encouragement to the horse. 

Alina felt herself drifting off to sleep in the safety of his presence, but she came awake when she realized they had come to a stop. The dawn was just breaking, and she could see the outline of a slightly ramshackle barn across from a farm house.

"Why are we stopping?" she asked quietly.

"We are close to the main road now. The Lantsov pup is sure to have sent men to scout ahead to see if they can stop us. We will wait here a few hours until they have passed on their way back to their camp. It seems you could use some sleep, as well."

She squirmed a little, embarrassed. "I'm fine. We should keep moving and get back to Kribirsk."

He ignored her protestation. “You will need to be prepared to learn to use _merzost_ in a very short amount of time. I would prefer that you do that with something of a clear head.”

"But won't whoever owns this place discover us?"

"There is no smoke," he said calmly, indicating the chimney. "The family has likely evacuated along with anyone else living in the area." 

After a moment, Alina nodded, and Aleksander helped her slide to the ground. He followed a moment later, leading the horse toward the barn.

"Are we breaking into the house?"

Aleksander shook his head. "Better that we stay out here close to the horse in case we need to ride. There should be a hayloft where you can rest."

He was right. They pulled open the door to the barn and Alina found everything she would have expected from a building stockpiled for the winter. There were cornstalks tied in bunches that leaned against the walls, a neat and tidy array of farming implements along the back wall, a small ginger cat that stood watching them from the empty stall, and a ladder tucked away in the back that led to what looked like a spacious hayloft.

Aleksander led the horse into the stall, removed its saddle and bridle, and rubbed it down with a cloth. Alina made friends with the ginger cat, scratching its ears, while Aleksander scooped a portion of grain out of a nearby bin and poured it into the feed bucket. The stallion gave an appreciative whicker and settled in to eat.

Feeling weary to her bones, Alina began to climb the rungs of the ladder and pushed her head up through the entrance to the loft. Piles of hay filled it to the brim. She didn't even wait for Aleksander before she flopped down onto one of the ready-made beds. His boots sounded on the ladder, and moments later, he stretched out to rest beside her. It was relatively warm in the barn, but he still drew her close to him with one arm as if to warm her.

Alina closed her eyes and prepared for sleep.

And nothing happened.

After long moments of moving subtly to try to find a position more conducive to sleep, she let out a long sigh. She was simply too keyed-up to sleep. She opened her eyes and found Aleksander watching her.

"Go to sleep," he ordered, and she resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"I'm trying to. I can't seem to make my brain quiet down."

"And what are you thinking about that will not let you be still?" he asked.

Alina paused, but she finally admitted, "I'm thinking about all the things that could go wrong. What if I can't use _merzost_ or what if I do use it and make the Fold worse, destroying us all?"

"You will not be able to know until you try."

She hesitated, then finally said in a small voice, "Will you show me how to use it? Just a little?"

"_Merzost_?" He hesitated, then nodded. "Yes, I will show you. Sit up."

She lifted herself until she was in a seated position on the hay. Aleksander held out a hand, and she rested her hand in his, feeling the sweet rush of calmness soothing her. He turned her hand so that the back of it rested in his, palm up. Then, he picked up a piece of the yellow hay and placed it on her palm, which surprised her. She felt the dry texture of it and wondered what he meant for her to do with it.

"Now," he said slowly. "Do you feel what you have in your hand?"

"...It's a piece of hay," she said, perplexed at what he was getting at.

"It is not just a piece of hay. It is a piece of life and it is a piece of death--a piece of everything. When you hold it, feel how it could be all of those things and yet it is purely itself." 

Alina tried to understand what he was saying "Like _Odinakavost_...? the 'thisness'...? Or is it the 'thatness'...?" Her brain began to swirl with the maelstrom of the endless Grisha theory whose meaning always seemed to elude her.

He shook his head. "Forget all of that. It is not important here. Morozova would say ‘Are we not all things?’ That is the essence of _merzost_. The understanding that all things hold the same infinite possibility in them. It moves inside the smallest parts of yourself as much as it moves through the smallest parts of that piece of hay."

He looked at her intently. "I want you to bend it. Bend those parts of it to your will. Bend the small spaces _between_ the parts just as you did when we sparred in the training rooms. Reach inside yourself and reach inside the thing that you now hold. Make it be what you know it could be. What you want it to be.” 

Alina closed her eyes. She felt the piece of hay. It was dry. Dead. But it was also a part of the living world. It had once been a _living_ part of that living world. She tried to feel the small pieces that made up what she held--tried to feel the spaces between those parts. And as she did so, she felt a stirring in her power as she thought of the potential of the smallest of those spaces. And as she let herself drift toward the feeling--toward that space--she moved into a state of pure sensation without thought or anything resembling theory. 

She was of the sun, she was of the earth, she became all things that brought life. She thought of that life and of green grass growing on a summer's day. She felt that in the depths of her being. _Wanted_ it with the depths of her being. And her power responded, pushing into the small spaces and expanding within her mind, changing what she held into what she pictured. It felt as if something vibrated through her bones, her blood, her skin, her very soul. It rippled out of her like the purest sound of a harp string being plucked, and she felt a wash of something that felt like her light but was infinitely deeper roll over her body and then narrow down into a point in her cupped palm.

She heard Aleksander make a small inhalation, and she opened her eyes to see the tips of the piece of dry and dead hay turning into a living, vibrant green blade of grass. The color spread from the tips all the way through it until it was as if it had just been plucked from the earth, alive with possibility.

Alina stared at it. She held the newly-transformed blade of grass as if it were spun sugar that might break with the slightest motion. "How--?" she marveled.

It had almost been easy. Easy as breathing. The power had felt like it was hiding just beneath the surface of her thoughts, more feeling than words or theory.

"We are unique," he said, "and _merzost_ responds to us in much simpler ways than other, less powerful Grisha." Looking at the piece of living grass in her hand, he gave a rare, pleased smile that reached all the way to his eyes. "Very good, Alina. You seem to be suited to this." She felt warm at his praise, amazed at the talent and power she had revealed in herself. More than that, she felt humbled a little, but also hungry. Hungry for more.

"What else can I do?" she demanded.

"Anything," Aleksander whispered, his voice a seductive purr. "The possibilities are infinite."

She shivered at the hunger in his voice. At the hunger she felt rising inside herself. She wanted to feel that rippling, golden feeling again and again. To revel in it and change the world in ways both large and small. With this, she could transform the Fold. She could transform anything. The thought of bringing life to the dead sands of the Unsea, of filling and transforming the darkness into pure light, of what it would be like to hold the entire fabric of reality in her hands made her shudder with longing.

Aleksander took in her reaction, and his eyes began to burn with a new light, his pupils dilating until his eyes were almost a solid black. “This changes everything, Alina. Everything."

She turned her face to his and let the blade of grass fall to the floor, reaching out for him instead. And he drew her toward him slowly, bringing her trembling body into his strong arms and bringing her parted lips to his hungry mouth.

As she gave herself to him, she felt as if she was tumbling end over end into a bottomless well of longing. And in that well of endless pleasure, she would happily drown.

And so she did.


	24. Chapter 24

There was a kind of wild desperation in their touch. After their capture, their escape, and after Alina's transformative experience with _merzost_, everything felt more urgent--as if all that Alina wanted to hold onto in the world was him.

Aleksander worked free the buttons of her coat as he kissed her, his mouth devouring and tasting her own. When he finished, he pushed the coat open and grasped the roughspun shirt underneath it. Rather than unbuttoning the thinner material, he took it roughly in his hands and then wrenched his hands apart. Buttons popped and the sound of tearing fabric came to her ears moments before she felt cool air snaking along her torso.

She gasped, but it didn't slow her down as she struggled to free herself from the army trousers that still clothed her. Aleksander helped her to push them down to her ankles, far enough that she could easily spread her legs for him. Then he was all over her. He kissed her neck and her chest, let his lips and tongue and teeth mark the exposed tops of her breasts, and then he kissed his way down her stomach as he positioned himself so that his upper body lay between her thighs. 

"Will you let me teach you something more?" he asked her, looking up into her face. The temptation laced through his voice made her helpless to do anything but to breathe the word, "Yes." 

His eyes lit with something like mischief as much as they did with ardor. Alina had only a moment to contemplate what he was about to do before she felt his mouth kiss her mound and the soft curls atop it. Then he was bending his head and running his tongue along the seam between her legs. His lips were gentle, his tongue warm and soft as he eased it between her folds, and she felt a hot rush of desire fill her at the touch. She hissed in pleasure as he ran his tongue upwards and made contact with the place between her legs that he loved to lavish attention on, and where she thoroughly loved to receive that attention. 

Soldiers talked and joked, and Alina knew the vague details about this act, but had never thought it would be as magnificent as it was proving to be. It had always seemed like it would be awkward or strange, but what he was doing to her slowly and methodically with his mouth only made her want more and more and more. He began to paint designs on her burning flesh with his tongue, and she moaned long and low. 

"Please, Aleksander," she panted, unable to keep the words from her lips.

He chuckled, and the sound vibrated through her, making the place low in her stomach tighten even more. 

He lifted his head from between her thighs and met her eyes. "Beg for it," he ordered, his voice dark, as he ran one of his fingers between her legs in a teasing motion. She let out another moan and tilted her hips, entreating him to continue his ministrations. He held back from her and she let out a low cry. Helpless to do anything but obey him, she let the words fall from her unheedingly. "Please...I need it," she whimpered, squirming in his grip.

"And what do you need?" he asked, his eyes burning into hers.

"I need you," she managed to gasp out.

"And only me." It wasn't a question.

"Yes," she said with frustration and desire. "Just you. Only you."

With a small smile, he bent his head, positioning it between her thighs and beginning to kiss and lick her again. As he did so, he began to tease her entrance with two of his fingertips and then slid them deep inside of her, working them in and out in a motion she desperately needed to feel.

Her hips began to helplessly buck in time to his gestures, and she reached down to grip his thick black hair in her fists. She pulled him even closer to her, begging him once more with her words and her body. Nonsense fell from her lips--a desperate litany she couldn't hold back both commanding and cajoling him to never stop. He obliged and began to lick and suck at her with even more fervor.

Just as she was about to lose herself completely to the pleasure he gave her, he stopped, pulling back from her. She let out a wail of need, but he only turned her roughly onto her stomach and pulled her up by her waist so that she was splayed before him on her hands and knees. Glancing over her shoulder, she could see him undoing the front of his trousers and releasing the part of him she longed for. She arched her back, offering herself up to whatever he desired, and with a curse he gripped her hips and thrust deep inside of her.

Alina let out a hoarse cry as she felt him drive himself into her again and again. The sound of his harsh breathing filled her ears as did the sound of their bodies coming into urgent contact with each other. 

"Tell me you're mine," she heard him bite out as his hips smacked against her. 

"I'm yours. Only yours," she moaned again and again. His hands took on a near-bruising grip, and he slammed himself into her as if he would conquer her will and her body with his own. As if he would erase all memory of Mal or Nikolai Lantsov from her memory. She could have told him he didn't need to. She would let him do anything. Have everything. All that she wanted was to give herself over completely to what he was doing to her. And as she did, she felt the golden wave lift her and spin her up and over into that bank of pure pleasure that had her crying out his name again and again as her consciousness shattered into a thousand tiny pieces. 

It might have been seconds, it might have been minutes later, but she vaguely sensed that he had found his own release. He was draped over the top of her, panting and groaning. Then he gathered her in his arms and fell boneless into the hay that surrounded them. 

They lay that way for several minutes, breathing hard and pressing their bodies close together. Finally, the air started to feel cool enough that Alina pulled away enough to return her clothes to a semblance of order, although her shirt would be lost forever. Luckily, her coat covered her enough that nobody would be able to tell. She eyed him as she said, "Did you really need to rip my shirt off?"

His eyes held an endless amount of satisfaction in their depths as he merely said, "Yes." He gave her a small smirk. "Besides, you liked it."

Blushing, Alina lay back down, feeling him drawing her back into his arms as she confirmed, "I did like it." She felt giddy and playful as she continued, "I also like you, you know." 

His body stilled, and she could sense the slight hesitation in his voice as he asked, "Do you?"

She nodded. "I really do. You can be arrogant, and vicious, and horrible, but I like you, Aleksander Morozova."

He gave a small, short laugh. "I see." He nuzzled his face into her hair, whispering into her ear, "I find that I like you too, Alina Starkov. Despite you being naïve, and troublesome, and overly concerned with goodness."

She snuggled back against him in satisfaction giving a large yawn.

"Sleep," he told her softly. "I will keep watch."

She nodded and felt her eyes drift closed. Then she was easing into the quietness of sleep where she dreamed once again of the play of light and shadow coming together and exploding into a power the likes of which had never been seen before and that rose up to cover the earth and the sky.

When Alina woke up, she found that Aleksander still lay next to her, his head propped up on one of his arms. He looked like he was thinking of something serious, perhaps about what lay ahead. His gaze dropped to her as she rolled over to face him fully.

"Thanks for keeping watch," she said.

He nodded. 

She bit her lip, feeling the lightheartedness of earlier falling away. "Now that I can use _merzost_, what do we do next?"

"You will need to counteract the effects of the Fold. It should be a similar process to returning life to your blade of grass."

"But what if I accidentally create something as terrible as you did?"

"That is unlikely," he said. She couldn't help but notice that he was being awfully tight-lipped about the prospect, though. 

"And what if I can only change grass? What if I'm not strong enough to do anything else? To affect anything bigger?"

He shook his head. "Remember Morozova's words. 'Are we not all things' means there is just as much a relation to that piece of grass as there is to the idea of restoring the Unsea. If you can do one, then you can do the other." 

Alina thought that over, then gasped in horror. "Wait. If it's all the same, could I have ripped a hole in the world just now by bringing one piece of grass back to life?!"

"It seemed...unlikely," he said again, although the slight hesitation in his words made her skin crawl.

"Do you even know what you're doing?" she demanded. "Maybe Baghra's right and it's all an abomination."

He looked irritated at the mention of Baghra, but when he spoke, his voice was calm. "Try to think of it more as putting things into balance. You are my balance and your power is the balance to my power. What you do with the Fold should have fewer repercussions because you would bring it closer to balance with the world. Beyond that, it is hard to say what _merzost_ would require of you or of the world in order to take effect if you tried to do something else."

"So how do you know when something is worth the risk of all that could happen?"

"It must be something you care about enough that you would risk everything. Is not the Fold and your new country worth that?"

She nodded reluctantly. "What about Morozova? He used _merzost_ to create amplifiers. But nothing happened when he made them."

"Nothing we know of, no."

"Then why did the Fold react the way it did when you created it? Why are there volcra instead of people?"

If he was chagrined or repentant over having created the terrors of the Fold out of innocent people, he didn't show it. There was only challenge in his grey eyes as he said, "Because I wanted to create a weapon. Morozova infused ancient beasts with his own power. He gave. I took. I infused the Fold and the world with death, and it needed to draw the energy to create it from somewhere. It seems that instead of striking me dead or turning me into something hideous, it gathered the life force of all those within the area where I cast my power, changing them and their potential into the monstrosities you know now."

She couldn't hold back the question burning inside of her. "Why did you do it?"

"Why did I create the Fold?" He paused. "I was...distraught after Natalya died. It seemed the best way to prove I was committed to saving the Grisha after dallying with her. It was worth risking everything for." 

"So...if you were to expand the Fold...?"

"It would cost less than to tear a new hole in the world, but it would likely cost something horrendous. The risk is one I am willing to take."

"But only if my plan doesn't work," Alina stated, her voice hard.

"Only if it doesn't work," he allowed, but his voice was just as hard and his eyes were like two pieces of flint. "But rest assured, Alina. I am prepared to do anything to change the world into what I believe it must be for the Grisha to survive and to thrive."

She met his eyes, the challenge unspoken between them. Then she dropped her gaze. "And what exactly is my role going to be in the new kingdom, whether that's Ravka or where the Fold stands now?"

He frowned, then reached out to brush his fingers over her cheek. "I would have you be my queen. I thought I had made that obvious."

"Well, it's a long way from 'I like you' to marriage and a shared throne."

"It is. But it is what I want," he said simply.

"Well, we can't have the world be anything but what _you_ want it to be, now can we?"

He laughed softly. "And what of me? What would you have me be in your kingdom?"

"Hmmmm. You're very good with your mouth and with teaching me things, so I'm thinking royal advisor?"

He scoffed. "Royal advisor... I will have you know that my talents lie far beyond talking all day."

"Oh, when I mentioned your mouth, I didn’t mean you’d be _talking_..."

Aleksander laughed aloud this time, gripping her waist and rolling over, bringing her to rest on top of him. Her thighs gripped his waist. Alina looked into his face that was alight with desire and something more, and her heart soared with her happiness. She could do this. They could do this together. Maybe she was being naïve to think that they could survive the coming fight to create a new land and make it one filled with peace and prosperity for Grisha and non-Grisha alike. But they were one step closer with her learning to use _merzost_. And they were one step closer to finding peace with each other. And maybe even love would come in time.

She leaned down and let her lips brush over his. He deepened the kiss for a moment and then broke away with a regretful sigh. "We should go. The scouts will have passed by now."

"That's too bad. I kind of like it up here." She pushed gently against his chest, holding him down for another kiss.

When she finally broke away, he said, "Oh, believe me, I like you up there as well."

"It's good for holding you down to kiss you, at least."

"It is good for holding me down for other things, too."

"Like what?" Alina asked innocently.

Aleksander's hips bucked between her legs, the motion making Alina gasp and instinctively push closer. It felt good to have him there but with her in control for once. Feeling daring, she rocked herself against him in the rhythm she had begun to recognize from the previous times he'd been inside her.

He groaned, squeezing his hands around her waist to still her motions. "Remind me to continue that particular lesson as soon as this is all over."

Alina nodded, her eyes wide. Then she bent down and kissed him one final time. "Alright. Let's go create a kingdom."

They changed back into their kefta and then climbed down the ladder to the floor below. Aleksander saddled and bridled the horse while Alina wandered outside to look once more at the lonely little farm. Aleksander joined her, leading the horse behind him. Before he lifted her into the saddle, he plucked a piece of hay out of her hair, looking at it and her with a small smile. "If we win, we will have to make this place a national landmark."

She laughed. "_When_ we win, we'll tell everyone that this was the barn where the heroes hid from their pursuers and talked strategy. Maybe where the infamous Darkling taught the Sun Summoner a thing or two. We just won't say what that teaching entailed."

"Definitely not."

She sobered. "I'm nervous about going back," she said as she twisted her hands together.

"I am...apprehensive as well. But win or lose, we will be able to channel enough _merzost_ between the two of us to make our enemies very sorry they thought to defeat us." 

Alina nodded, looking into his eyes with as much intensity as she could. "I intend to go down fighting. No matter what."

He took her by the shoulders and leaned forward to kiss her forehead. "I would expect nothing less from you. Let us go, then." Lifting her into the saddle, he vaulted up after her, and they turned toward the nearby road. Aleksander pushed the horse into a canter, and they flew across the hard-packed dirt toward the Grisha camp. 

Kribirsk came into view a few hours later. Alina never thought she would be so happy to see the small town. Sentries watching the border of the camp snapped into a salute on seeing the two of them. Aleksander nodded to them as he and Alina passed by. 

When they reached the large tent that served as the war room, Aleksander dismounted smoothly and Alina struggled to emulate his easy descent.  
He stepped towards the tent, but turned back when he saw she wasn't behind him. 

"Come," he said, holding out a hand to her.

Her eyes darted toward the entrance. "I've never been in one of the war councils before. What if I say or do something stupid or something that seems weak?"

Aleksander gestured toward the door. "You will be fine. You are very formidable when you want to be." 

Alina hesitated.

"Just picture feeding them to the volcra if they question your decision. I always feel calmer with that thought in mind,” he said with a small quirk of his mouth.

She gave a hesitant laugh because she wasn't entirely certain that he was joking.

When they entered, Alina saw Baghra and a slew of generals all talking around a circular strategy table. Bright pieces of painted wood marked the three nations of the Alliance: white for Fjerda, gold for Ravka, and blue for the Shu Han. A general who looked like he was visibly sweating seemed to be giving a report to Baghra, who looked just as she did right before she was about to hit someone or something with her stick.

On seeing Alina and Aleksander at the door, Baghra slammed the point of that stick onto the floor, causing a loud thump to echo through the room. Several generals jumped or jerked to attention at the sound. "Where have you two been?" she snapped. "The Alliance armies are almost here."

Aleksander's eyebrows raised, and his exasperation was plain. "There was the small matter of rescuing Alina. And then we were delayed on the road."

Baghra's eyes missed nothing as Alina's gaze slid to Aleksander's face, and when the older woman harrumphed in a knowing way, a blush spread across Alina's cheeks. "Delayed on the road. How convenient," she snapped, although she looked happy to see the both of them. "Well, don't just stand there. Take over your army! I'm sick to death of hearing these idiots tell me about what they can't do right. I'm going to go sit by my fire. Let me know when it's all over." The old woman stomped out of the tent, but she stopped next to Aleksander when she reached him. Alina barely overheard his mother say "I am glad you’ve returned."

He nodded and without a word turned back to the generals and the strategy board before them. Alina tried her best to stay out of the way, but then Aleksander looked up at her and said smoothly, "The Sun Summoner has a plan."

Panic shot through her. These generals didn't need nor want to listen to her. What could she possibly say that would convince them she knew what she was doing. She did what Aleksander suggested and thought of volcra and calmness. Although she fumbled for the words at first, soon her plan spilled out of her, borne on her excitement "I...I want us to split our forces. I'll take a small party with me into the Fold, and your commander will stay outside of it to hold the Alliance's armies off of us. What I do inside the Fold should create enough of a distraction to allow us to rout their forces."

"There will be massive casualties no matter what kind of distraction you provide," said one of the generals, a Corporalnik.

Alina turned to the woman as she tried to think of a response, but Aleksander smoothly deflected the jab, saying, "There will always be casualties. Our survival depends on the sacrifice. The Grisha will pay the cost, no matter what it is."

"What about the device you used to kill the volcra?" one general, a Tidemaker, questioned. 

Alina hesitated. The thought of using that power to disintegrate entire swathes of men and women made her sick to her stomach, even if they were enemy soldiers. "It's still a very new technology made to be used on the Fold. I think the risk is too great to try to use it around our soldiers. I could accidentally take out as many of our people as I did theirs." She paused. She had said she would go down fighting. "It could be a last resort, though." 

The generals nodded and seemed to agree with her. There was no pushback on her points, at least. She felt herself relaxing. This was happening. Her plan was being put into motion and a jolt of hope shot through her. 

The others believed it could be done...That she and Aleksander could save them. And just maybe that was exactly what was going to happen. It was that or die trying, and Alina wasn't ready to die just yet. She had found too much to hope for to give in to doubt now.

As they finalized details of the plan, a messenger stuck her head into the tent. Aleksander looked up sharply.

"_Moi soverenyi_, she said urgently. "Our scouts have sighted the enemy approaching. They will be here within the hour."

He nodded. Looking to the generals, he said quietly, "Ready your soldiers. We go to the field. For the Grisha." 

Alina and the generals echoed him, "For the Grisha."

It was time. Time to take hold of her destiny. Time to be the Sun Summoner everyone needed her to be. Alina drew a breath and walked out into the light of a day that would change her fate forever.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, I can't believe we're in the final push of this fic. It has been such a delight writing this, and I so appreciate your likes and your comments :) I listened to "Dream is Collapsing" from the Inception movie soundtrack while writing and editing this just in case you want the full experience...

Outside the tent, a kind of ordered chaos reigned. Grisha were shouting orders to each other, and an overzealous Squaller almost blew down a tent across from them as the man nervously sent out a plume of air around himself. Shoulders were clasped and goodbyes and good lucks were being said. Alina let herself be swept along with the sea of bodies toward the fields to the side of the town. There, the Grisha had begun to drift into distinct groupings as if the domed hall at the Little Palace where they had all once eaten their dinners had been transported to Kribirsk on a massive scale. She had never seen so many Grisha in one place, all amassed under banners that bore a symbol she'd never seen before either: the blazing gold rays of the sun stretching outwards from a circle of pure black. Aleksander had wedded their images into one, and it was a powerful sight.

There was a dais large enough for two people between the banners. Aleksander stepped onto it, then he scanned the crowd until he met her gaze. He gestured that she should come and stand next to him. As she climbed up the steps to the dais and stood next to his side, he whispered, "When the moment comes and I take your hand, release your power." Alina swallowed, even more nervous all of a sudden now that she had a role to play that required her to be in front of every single Grisha gathered before them. A susurrus of unease and excitement swept through the crowd like wind through a field of wheat.

Aleksander raised a hand, and silence fell.

He paused for a heavy beat of silence then began to speak. "You and I both know what we face. We face death today...Death and the destruction of everything and everyone we know and love. I know you will lay down your lives as necessary to ensure that does not happen and to ensure our very survival." 

His voice quieted, and Alina could see everyone straining to hear, caught up in what he was saying. "I want what we have all always wanted: a place for the Grisha to belong. A place where we can live and be free instead of being tied to the war and greed plaguing lands both far and near." 

He turned his head to look at Alina. "While we defend these fields together, the Sun Summoner will enter the Fold and create a _new_ land. That new land is where we will thrive...Where we will join together as one people and one nation." 

He looked around, and every soul seemed to be caught in the grey steel of his eyes as he proclaimed, "Now fight for your people. Fight for your future. Fight for us." He clasped Alina's hand and raised it in a defiant gesture. On that signal, his free hand began to spill shadows while hers filled with a wash of golden light.

It was a stirring image, she had no doubt. And in answer, the ringing cries of "_Moi soverenyi_" and even a few shouts of "_Sol Koroleva_" and "_Korol Teney_," Sun Queen and Shadow King filled the air.

Aleksander returned her hand to her side, and after squeezing it one last time, he let it go. Alina felt the loss and looked into his face. She saw determination there, and she hoped her own features reflected that rather than the fear and uncertainty she truly felt.

"I will see you on the other side," he said softly.

"On the other side," she agreed.

She didn't know what else to do, so she stepped back from him and descended the dais. The Grisha parted to clear a path before her, and she walked down that long aisle, looking at all the faces who needed her to succeed. At all the faces of those that would be dead in a matter of hours. She needed to remember them, to hold them with her as she traversed into the depths of the Fold.

Soon, a sandskiff loomed in front of her, and she climbed aboard. Sergei, Marie, and Nadia already awaited her there. They would be her crew along with another Squaller and a few Inferni she didn't know but that Aleksander had insisted she take with her for their battle experience. She couldn't bear the idea of those closest to her dying trampled and bleeding on a field just beyond where she stood. Better to risk their lives alongside her than for her to hear about their deaths from someone else. It might have been selfish, but that was how she felt.

As she lifted her arm to signal the skiff to begin its progress, she heard a voice raised behind her. "Alina! Wait!"

She turned. It was Genya with David in tow. 

"What are you two doing here?" she asked. "Shouldn't you be in camp helping the Healers or joining the others out on the field?"

Genya shook her head. "We want to come with you."

"But...why?" 

"Where else am I going to go?" Genya asked, spreading her hands to indicate her Tailor's robes. "I can fight, yes, but I have a feeling it would be more helpful if I was there as moral support for you."

Alina accepted this without comment, her heart rising into her throat at the thought that all of her friends would be surrounding her in these fateful moments. "And David?"

David spoke up then, "I'm here because if I die, I want it to be alongside Genya. And besides, I can help if something goes wrong with the skiff."

The second reason was a flimsy one, but Alina nodded after a moment. "Of course you can both come."

Genya ascended the skiff without a word, but there was a triumph in her eyes that was hard to miss. The Tailor wanted to feel like she was contributing something to this war--they both did--and Alina could understand that.

"Do you want your gauntlet?" David asked, his eyes scanning her arm.

"Not for this," she said, thinking of how she wanted both hands free to try to channel _merzost_. If she did it right, she wouldn't need the gauntlet.

A battle horn sounded in the air. Alina's head snapped up, and she could see banners waving for the Alliance in the distance. The banners were not nearly far enough away. She could just make out their tri-colored design. On seeing the symbol of their enemies, she sent up a prayer to the Saints for Aleksander's victory alongside a prayer that he would just emerge from this unscathed. 

Time was running short. She raised her hand once more and dropped it, saying. "Let's go."

The skiff began to move, pushed forward on the winds from the Squallers. The anticipation began to build under her skin. It was happening now. She couldn't turn back from it. As they entered the thick, blanketing darkness, Alina felt a surge of panic fill her. What if she couldn't do it? What if Aleksander had been wrong and everyone she cared about died because of it? She tried to push those feelings behind her. They would do her no good now. Now she needed to be strong.

It was all happening so fast. Everything began to feel like pieces of a kaleidoscope, each moment coming into focus in a different configuration: the darkness feeling like a soft glove surrounding her...Sounds becoming muted and more sharper at the same time...Shrieks and growls echoing in the space around them as the flapping wings of the volcra brought their monstrous bodies nearer to the skiff. 

Pulling herself into the present moment, Alina reached her hands up. "Stop here," she commanded softly, and the skiff slowed to a halt. Spreading her fingers, she tried to feel the texture of the darkness, the small spaces between what made it real and what made it insubstantial nothingness. As she stretched out with her senses, she remembered the feel of _merzost_ coursing through her--the ease with which it had come to her. The cries of the volcra sounded nearer and nearer, and she closed her eyes. She called out into the void.

And _merzost_ answered. 

It was here, she realized. The power was inside of her. All she had to do was reach out and grasp it. She felt down, down, down into the depths of her being and felt the corresponding depths of the making at the heart of the world. A deep thrum answered her as she stretched toward it. The power responded to her plea for aid, and began to build and unfurl inside of her. 

Alina felt her light begin to rise inside her body. It began as a glow, rippling out of her skin and her outstretched hands. It pushed the darkness back and began to stream forth in a solid sphere of light, pushing ever farther outwards. She could see the volcra circling the skiff, their monstrous forms now held at bay as they howled their frustration. Shutting out their sounds, she sought the feeling of light and life inside her, entwining those elements with the texture of death and darkness that surrounded them and stretched into what felt like eternity. 

There was a crackling and rustling that she knew was for her ears alone as she began to push the feeling and essence of life into the spaces she envisioned amidst the black veil of the Fold. Her will commanded and _merzost_ obeyed, spinning out into rays of power that streamed from her fingers. Those rays connected with the darkness as if the Fold's veil had finally become a solid thing that she could manipulate. She imagined the rays of light hooking into the blackness, drawing it up as if it were merely a length of cloth. 

With one hand, she made a fist and pulled the light towards her body, wrapping the now-tangible strands of power around her hand and jerking them as if at a tangled skein of yarn. The strands began to glow and pulse in her mind, _merzost_ eager to take hold of reality. Yes, she thought to those strands. You want this. You want to take the darkness, the death, the nothingness. You want it to live again. 

She could feel it deep inside of her: The light and the life that wanted to be free. It wanted to expand over everything and consume it all. What would happen if she gave the power free reign? Would it burn them all to ash and would life start anew like a phoenix rising? A part of her wanted to find out, but she pushed the feeling down, trying to control the dizzying hunger for power that rose inside of her. 

Reaching out with her other hand, she closed it into a fist as well and pulled it towards her center. The fabric of the Fold stretched along behind her hands and in her mind she could feel it begin to draw more and more taut. Alina began to imagine what she wanted--to demand it--and _merzost_ began to drag the power she needed out of herself, out of the air, out of the dead ground, out of the bodies of the volcra and the living and the fallen bodies raging together beyond the Fold. Out of all that encompassed the world itself.

This was the moment. The tension was unbearable, and the words of Morozova and Aleksander raged through her mind. 

"Are we not all things?" she whispered.

And she ripped her hands to her sides, tearing the darkness down the center--reopening an ancient wound. The darkness above them parted, and sunlight streamed out of the sky onto the dead sands of the Unsea for the first time in centuries. The edges of the Fold were peeling back as she pushed more and more power into the tear. It widened farther until there was nothing but sun and sky as far as the eye could see. She turned her head slowly, taking in the view that surrounded her to each side, and willing the light to overtake the barest shadows. Through the haze of power, she looked back over her shoulder where she could see a fierce battle raging. The screams and cries of Grisha and Alliance soldiers alike were now sounding through the air, and she could see Aleksander's black and gold banners wavering in a sea of bodies.

Turning back to what remained of the Fold and the task at hand, she remembered the feeling of holding the piece of grass in her hands and the life filling it, changing it. The color and texture adapting and shifting to what her will commanded. It was not enough to bring daylight to the Fold. She would bend the world to her will and her desire. She gripped her fists and her hold on the power intensified. 

More, she thought. More. Be the paradise I desire.

As if in response to her silent cry, shoots of green grass began to force their way out of the grey sand and climb upward until the stalks were shin-height, a rippling sea of green and undulating life blowing in a warm breeze. Closing her eyes, she pushed harder. When she opened them, she saw saplings had sprouted amid the grassy plains. They began to climb and grow into trees that stretched toward the sky as she watched, their boughs heavy with fruit as if a pocket of summer existed in the middle of winter. All around her was the verdant evidence of the power of _merzost_.

As light and power blazed up like flames through the very air around them, she dimly became aware that the volcra had begun to burn. She could see their limbs thrashing and their bodies heaving as they began to shift and reform under the uncanny light of _merzost_ like sand eroded by the lapping pull of water on a beach. Their shrieks and screams were horrible to hear, but she continued, pushing the light and life into the tear in the world, cauterizing the wound and healing it at the same time. The volcra began to come apart at the seams, and as they exploded in showers of light, small flocks of birds appeared in their place. Others fell to the ground and began to transform, shifting into deer and foxes and other living creatures to populate a living world. Alina almost laughed drunkenly with the whimsy of it as the magic altered the fabric of reality itself. This was what she wanted. _This_.

It was hard to let go of all that power. So hard. But she felt her emotional pull towards Aleksander stretch just as tight as that of the power in her hands. She began to release her hold on the light, the strands and skeins of energy unraveling into the air. As she did so, she turned and saw the skiff now sat in a field of green grass and that everyone on it was staring at her.

Some looked at her with fear, others with wonder. David opened his mouth and closed it once more before saying, "You used _merzost_."

Alina nodded.

Genya barreled forward as if she couldn't wait another minute to hug her. As she wrapped her arms around Alina and lifted her an inch off the ground, she crowed, "You did it! You destroyed the Fold!"

Alina nodded, hugging her back and feeling as if she was glowing inside and out with the uncanny energy still filling her. "I know," she said numbly. "But we have to go. They need us back at the front." Genya squeezed her one last time and put her back down.

Alina turned to leave, assuming the others would follow behind her. She didn’t have time to rally them, and the Grisha didn’t seem to be winning the battle if the brief glance she'd seen earlier had been any indication. They had only used the skiff to enter the very edge of the Fold, and she began to run toward the thick of the fighting. Aleksander's banners were only a few minutes away, thank the Saints. 

She raced toward those banners, and as the Grisha saw her, they once more cleared a path for her as they had before the fighting began. Those from the skiff who were running behind her helped out, the Squallers blowing any enemies who approached onto the ground while the Inferni struck their flints and burned the enemy soldiers with streaks of flame where they had fallen. The stench of blood and burning flesh filled her nose as screams redoubled around her, making her think of the monsters that had once been the volcra. If she had to use _merzost_ on her human enemies, could she do it? Before she could decide, she was suddenly close enough to see Aleksander, and all other thought left her. 

He sat atop his rearing, midnight-colored horse, one hand gathering the reins and the other lashing out with the Cut to strike down an array of Alliance soldiers as they raised their guns to fire at him or slashed at him with their bayonets. Alina's Grisha guards joined the struggling _oprichniki_, pushing back the combatants until a relatively calm bubble surrounded them.

Aleksander pulled his horse back down to rest on the ground, his gaze dropping to Alina's. "Is it done?" he asked, his eyes holding not nearly as much confidence as she wanted to see in them. 

She nodded. "How are we doing out here?"

"Not well," he admitted. "We lost a regiment of Heartrenders who went down in some kind of explosion. Luckily, the Lantsov guns we saw last night do not seem to be working, but we are being worn down." He hesitated. "It does not look good, Alina."

Her breath caught in her chest. As it did, she became aware of a growing cry and thunder of hooves sounding from over a nearby ridge. Aleksander turned to look. His face tightened. "Reinforcements," he said quietly. "We are lost." 

They watched as a surge of bodies crested the hill, many of which were mounted on horseback. Their incoherent shouts filled the air, and it looked as if they would run headlong into the flank of the Grisha army.

It was going to be a rout, she thought. One filled with broken bones and a river of blood.

In the few moments left to them, Aleksander reached the hand that wasn't holding the bridle down toward her. She looked up at him and took it as he gave her a small smile. "I will see you on the other side?" he asked, echoing their final words from before the battle.

"On the other side," she agreed.

They let go of each other's hand and then raised their arms in a synchronized motion, ready to slash into the approaching forces with the combined power of the Cut. They would go down fighting. They would go down together until the end. Before their arms descended, though, one of the women in the approaching crowd raised a banner high into the air. 

It was a golden sunburst on a field of white. 

Alina stared at it. It couldn't be, she thought. 

But it was. 

As the force approached, she could see Tolya and Tamar leading the charge, and arrayed behind them was a mixture of what could only be pilgrims, First Army deserters, and regular townspeople all bearing arms.

They were a ragged band now that she could see them up close, but between the Fold being destroyed and the arrival of these reinforcements, the Alliance forces seemed to be thrown into upheaval. The Grisha surged forward, lobbing explosive devices onto the enemy troops, burning them, blowing the flames and explosions ever farther outward. There were certainly fellow Grisha at the far edges who were going to be killed in the blasts, but Alina understood the momentum of battle was too important to let go of it.

She followed Aleksander as he rode into the thick of the battle, calling out commands and sending the Cut through the enemy troops who looked like they were gathering for one last ditch effort. At this sight, soldiers turned tail and began to stream away from the battle or put their hands up in surrender, dropping their rifles and crying out for mercy. She would have to make sure they received that mercy.

It was chaos as the Fjerdan, First Army, and Shu Han soldiers' forward progress began to stutter to a halt. Some were still fighting, but most were relenting. For a brief moment, Alina and Aleksander shared a look of triumph. He pulled his mount to a stop and slid down from its back, grasping both her hands in his as soon as his feet were planted on the ground. 

"We did it!" she exclaimed. A smile broke over his face at her enthusiasm, and his eyes lit up with the look of a much younger man. He opened his mouth to respond.

Then there was the sound of a sharp crack, and his hand jerked out of hers. 

Alina looked with confusion at Aleksander's face, wondering what had happened. He opened his mouth, but no words came out, only a thin red stream that seeped from between his lips. The blood drained from Alina's face as he staggered and fell to his knees before collapsing onto the ground.

Behind him stood Mal. He was lowering a gun. All he had time to say was, "Alina."

Looking at Aleksander's body lying on the ground before her, Alina drew in a breath and screamed a long howl of rage and grief. 

And the entire world went white.


	26. Chapter 26

Alina felt like her screams would go on and on until they tore her apart. Without thinking, she slashed her arm through the air in the Cut, channeling all her anger and sorrow at Mal. The sound of his body hitting the ground reached her ears seconds later, but she didn't care. She only had eyes for Aleksander, who was lying so still on the ground below her.

She dropped into a crouch beside him. When she touched his chest it was wet with a spreading pool of blood. "Aleksander," she whispered, and then she cried his name again louder, shaking him slightly. He had been shot through his right lung, and she could see the blast had just missed his heart. But he was still breathing.

She gave a small cry of relief at the sight of his chest moving in shallow pants. His eyes had fluttered open, and the look of pain and fear and confusion nearly undid her. She took his hand in hers to try to anchor them together.

"Alina," he managed to croak out.

"It's going to be alright," she said, her lips trembling and tears beginning to fall from her eyes. "I'm here. You're going to be alright." 

He drew in a rasping breath and his eyes looked over her shoulder in an unfocused stare. "I see them, Alina," he said. His breathing was labored, and his voice was very faint. "The dead. I see my Natalya. She's waiting for me."

Terror and sorrow gripped Alina's heart at the thought that she might lose him. Tears tracked their way down her cheeks as she ground out, "Damn it, Aleksander. Do _not_ leave me." His hand was very cold.

The faint sound of her name from behind her made Alina tear her gaze away from Aleksander's still form. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Mal on the ground close by to her. There was blood pouring from his body onto the ground, and it surrounded him in a wide pool inching closer and closer to the hem of her _kefta_. She had practically cut him in half. 

He was dying. Mal. Mal was dying too, and it was all her fault. They hadn’t parted on good terms, but he was still someone she cared for deeply. Alina reached one of her hands out to Mal and took his closest hand in hers, forming a chain between the three of them. She wasn’t sure how else to apologize to Mal for what she’d done than to be with him as he died. And Saints knew she wasn’t letting go of Aleksander. Mal gripped her hand back with all his fading strength. Feeling as if she herself had been torn in two, she swung her gaze back to Aleksander. 

But his grey eyes were staring up into nothingness, his fingers slack in hers.

"No," she whispered before shouting, "No!"

But the only sound was Mal's last gurgling breaths dissipating on the winter wind. His fingers fumbled as they reached out for her and he wrapped them around her wrist in his final moments.

As silence fell, she raised her head to let out a sob of loss. She tightened her hold on Aleksander's hand as she did so and prepared herself to pull away from Mal's grip, but a sudden jolt of pure energy speared through her center as surely as the gunshot had sped through Aleksander's body. It stole her breath. The power was immense. Enormous.

Before she even realized what she was doing, she began to summon. But as light streamed from her in a blinding corona, she dug deep into her soul and twisted it into _merzost_. Not quite certain what she intended, she gripped Aleksander’s hand hard and pushed with everything in her being. She thought of the blade of grass changing from a dried stalk into a green shoot. Of the dead sands of the Fold conquered with the power of light and life. 

Alina was about to tip over an edge that she hadn't even known was there, but she didn't stop. She would do anything--_sacrifice_ anything to make Aleksander whole again. She needed him, and he would stay with her even if day became night and the sea itself burned. The almost-familiar feeling of _merzost_ took on a different edge as she demanded that he stay. Take whatever you want, she thought, but he stays. He. Stays. Her thoughts came fierce and hard, and her silent commands echoed throughout the very fabric of the world. 

She would not let him go. Not now. Not ever.

There was so much light blazing forth that his beautiful face was no longer visible. As if in a haze, Alina felt the new, blazing energy within her drawing up at her command, narrowing to a point in her chest as if it were a tiny pinprick that held everything that she was inside of it. And when she had concentrated all of it into that small ball of nothing and everything, she released it. She let it go and let it drift through her fingers and into Aleksander.

The light streaming from her body winked out as if it had never been. Daylight seemed dim in comparison, and Alina blinked her eyes to try to clear the afterglow from them. She turned her gaze to Aleksander, but it was as if the power she'd offered up to him had never been. 

For a moment, she despaired. "Please," she whispered.

Then his body began to convulse. His eyes were now closed, and his entire being burst forth with light. He was lit from within as if he himself had the power to summon the sun rather than his own darkness. 

Alina let go of him and pulled free from Mal as well, her friend’s hand dropping limply to the ground. She stared at Aleksander, riveted, as he began to still. Then his body finally came to a rest. 

Alina let out a soft gasp when Aleksander's eyes began to slowly open. He stared up at her, and she stared down at him. Where his eyes had once been a cool, calculating quartz grey, there was now a subtle circle of gold surrounding his pupil. He brought his hand up to catch hers where it hovered over his chest.

"Alina," he said quietly, his voice no longer thready, but strong and sure.

She gave a low cry and threw herself on top of him. He gave a small "oof" and wrapped his arms around her back. She hugged him with every ounce of strength inside of her, then she kissed him with an urgency she had never felt as she poured all her relief into the pressure of her lips. When she pulled away from him, he laughed, reaching up to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. "We are putting on quite the show," he murmured. 

At that moment, she realized they were surrounded by an army of both Grisha and those who had rallied to her own banner. Most of those nearby had dropped to their knees, allowing even more that stood behind them to glimpse what was taking place. Alina struggled off of Aleksander as whispers and shouts began to wend their way through the air.

"Saints..." 

"He's alive..." 

"She brought him back to _life_..." 

"_Sol Koroleva_!"

“Sankta!”

Unsure what to do, she got to her feet and reached a hand out to help Aleksander stand. When he did, he kept her hand clasped in his and raised their arms high in a gesture reminiscent of the one from before the battle. 

They had done it. They had won.

Everyone went wild. There were cheers and people hugging: Grisha hugging pilgrims, First Army deserters hugging Grisha, and her friends who had followed her all clapping their arms around each other. It was chaos. 

Alina and Aleksander eased their way through the mass of people who were beginning to celebrate in earnest. Somehow, bottles of _kvass_ were already making their way through the crowd. Aleksander snagged one of the bottles with his free hand, the other holding Alina's hand tightly. He took a long swig and passed it back to a pilgrim, who looked awed and inclined her head.

A few Corporalnik generals appeared in front of them and bowed. "_Moi soverenyi_, one of them said. "What would you have of us?"

Aleksander looked at these men and women with his new and striking grey and gold eyes. "Gather the council. We will convene to hammer out our terms for the Alliance's surrender. Send a messenger to their camp to tell them that we demand a meeting in the church of Kribirsk in an hour's time."

The generals bowed again and strode away. Aleksander drew Alina forward toward their large tent. She was grateful for the assistance, feeling like she could have been knocked over with a feather. She was still reeling from the power she had channeled and the fact that Aleksander was alive. Alive!

They walked through the tent's entrance and made their way to Aleksander's room. Once inside they turned and stared at each other once more.

"You came back," she croaked. They were the first words she'd spoken to him since his resurrection. His resurrection. Those words were almost more than she could believe, but what else could they be but the truth? He had been dead. He had left her alone. And now he stood in front of her gazing at her with those eerie, two-colored eyes. "How?"

"_Merzost_," he said simply. "What did you do, Alina? What were you willing to sacrifice?"

She looked inside herself, searching for her power. It flared in her hand to her great relief, but it was the same strength she had become used to since she had acquired her amplifier. The new power that had blazed through her--wherever it had come from--was gone.

"I gave up Mal," she said as she realized what had preceded the event. "Oh Saints…I killed him." Alina sank down onto Aleksander's bed as the realization swept through her. She had killed the man who she'd loved for years, and she'd done it without a second thought. At least she had been there for him as he died. It was the very least she could do as his killer. “But where did the power come from that helped me bring you back?”

Aleksander sat beside her, shaking his head. "I do not know.”

“What kind of a cost could there be for using that much _merzost_?” 

“I do not know that, either.”

They sat in silence for a long moment. Finally, Aleksander broke it as he asked, “Why did you do it, Alina? Why did you bring me back?” His voice was as unsteady as she'd ever heard it.

She spoke slowly. "You said if I was to use _merzost_, it must be for 'something you care about enough that you would risk everything.' I was willing to risk everything for you. Everything and more. The world if I had to." She began to feel tears once more falling from her eyes. The shock must be catching up to her, she thought.

Aleksander took her in his arms. He stroked her hair and let her cry her grief for Mal along with her relief that his life had meant Aleksander was still with her, no matter how inexplicable it was. When her tears dried, she tilted her head up, and he leaned down to capture her lips in a gentle kiss.

As he drew back from her slightly, she reached up to draw him close again. A surge of emotion filled her, and she couldn’t hold the feeling inside. "Aleksander…I think I'm falling in love with you," she whispered. 

It was as if light dawned in his eyes at her words, the gold band around his pupil glimmering in the dim light of the tent. He reached a hand up to stroke her cheek, and it was as light and gentle as the touch of a feather. "Alina," he breathed. He pulled them both backwards until they were lying on the bed with her on top of him. 

It didn't matter that he didn't say the words back. Alina still reached out with trembling fingers and began to unbutton his _kefta_. They had a short time before the councilors and generals were summoned, and she intended to take full advantage of these moments. She wanted him—wanted to prove to herself that he was alive and wasn’t going anywhere.

As each inch of Aleksander's chest became visible, whole and unblemished, she let her lips brush against his skin. At last, she pressed a kiss over his heart. Her own heart was so full that she almost couldn't bear it. When she raised the hem of her robe and pulled it over her head, she heard him draw in a breath. Would she ever tire of provoking this reaction from him? She doubted it. Suddenly, it seemed the most important thing in the world to divest them both of their clothing.

She rid herself of her underthings and then slowly and with infinite care, she returned to slowly unbuttoning his _kefta_ before taking care of what he wore underneath. When he was finally just as naked as she was, she climbed to sit on top of him, pressing her center against the hard length of his erection. He watched her without a word, letting her take control for once. 

Alina needed this. Saints, she needed it. And him. She rocked back and forth against him, teasing them both as she grew warm and wet. His lips parted on a gasp when she lifted herself up, took him in hand, and slid the head of his cock inside of her. His hands went to her hips, but he allowed her to set the pace as she slid inexorably onto him until he was seated deep inside her.

Only then did his fingers flex against the flesh of her hips as she began to move on top of him. She arched her back at the feel of his hands on her, and began to ride him in a slow and steady rhythm. His eyes widened as she placed one hand on his chest and the other between her legs. She began to stroke herself, feeling the small, slick ridge underneath her fingertips. A bolt of even greater pleasure shot through her as she circled it, and Aleksander let out a low groan as she increased the pace of their coupling in response to that pleasure. She knew he appreciated this image of her, her back stretched taut, offering her breasts to his view and touching herself the way he loved to touch her.

His hips began to thrust upwards, and she allowed it, wanting to feel him even closer, even deeper, needing to feel the raw, living energy of him. Alive, she thought again. Alive. She loved him, and he had returned to her. She wanted to remember this moment forever--to drive out the memory of him lying bloody and cold on the ground. Desperate to feel the vitality in him, she started to move faster, and as their rhythm picked up speed, she began to moan his name.

Aleksander gripped her more tightly, moving her up and down on his thrusting cock. Unable to stop it, she began to cry out, tilting her head back and closing her eyes as she came. His hips jerked once, then twice as he followed her into oblivion, his own muffled cry ringing throughout the room. 

After a moment, when she could think again, she bent down and kissed his lips. He reached his hand up and twisted it in her hair gently but firmly, bringing her eyes level with his. "Say it again," he murmured.

She knew what he wanted to hear. "I love you," she said steadily. His kiss that followed was slow and measured, but filled with an intense longing that meant more than anything he could have said. She knew he would be able to say those same words to her one day. Maybe not today, but one day. And now they would have thousands upon thousands of days for him to say that and more.

Alina climbed off of him and retrieved her _kefta_ from the ground. After dressing, she lifted it over her head and let it settle over her body. Aleksander was already buttoning his own back up again. They had to ready themselves for what came next, and that was a meeting with the Alliance for the spoils of victory to be decided. Such things didn't mean nearly as much to her as what she had just shared with Aleksander, though. She smiled at the thought. When it came to power and glory, apparently she would take love over either of them. She could practically hear his dry voice saying, "How sentimental," but she couldn't help it. And it was a relief to think that she truly would be the balance to his ambitions. 

Aleksander interrupted her musings. "What do you want to call it? Where the Fold used to be…your new land?" he asked in response to her questioning look.

"I hadn't thought about it," she replied. But now that she was thinking, she knew what she wanted to call it--what it had felt like as she created it. "Zelenyyi Mir," she said firmly, knowing it was the right thing.

"The Green World." He paused. "We will make it everything our people have ever wanted."

"All of them?" Alina asked, ready to fight him if he pushed back on their previous agreement.

"All of them," he agreed. "I had not expected those you called to actually come to our aid. I am happy to have been proven wrong about the usefulness of _otkazat'sya_." He paused. "Some of them, anyway."

Alina rolled her eyes at that. It was a start, though.

When they walked out of his room and into the main chamber of the Grisha tent, they found a knot of generals and councilors waiting for them. They were joined by Baghra, who stood apart from them as she leaned on her stick.

"I hear congratulations are in order," the old woman said, and a smile lurked around her features. The genuineness of that smile was almost the most shocking thing Alina had seen that day. Almost.

"You seem in a good mood," Aleksander said mildly. 

"What other kind of mood would I be in? You emerged alive and victorious from battle against all the odds. And you didn't destroy the world in the process. That's more than I expected from the both of you." Her eyes narrowed. "Tell me you are done with _merzost_, though."

"For now," Aleksander said, and his tone was even and smooth. Alina shot him a look. She had expected her use of magic to be a one-time thing. Hopefully, his ambitions would be put to rest once he actually sat atop a throne. And if not, she would cross that bridge when she got there.

"The Alliance delegates will be waiting for us in Kribirsk. So, let us go to church, mother," he said with no small measure of irony. Alina was shocked he had mentioned the true relationship between himself and Baghra. The assembled Grisha exchanged looks but said nothing. Alina wondered what changes in him, large and small, would be wrought from what they had achieved that day.

Before she could think on it further, they set out for the small building. On arriving and seeing the church’s dome and white-washed walls, she couldn't help but think of Mal. It had been a fateful moment when he had taken her captive in the church, and one of the last times she'd seen him. A mixture of emotions filled her. There was mostly anger, but a good deal of sadness as well.

When they entered the building, she immediately saw Nikolai Lantsov's burnished-gold hair. He stood next to the Ravkan king, who was seated and who looked startlingly unwell. Alina felt a surge of satisfaction at the sight. The king didn't look long for this world, and she couldn't say she was sorry for it. A Shu Han ambassador stood on one side of the group of Ravkans, and a Fjerdan ambassador stood on the other. 

As they approached, the prince gave Alina a long look. "Oretsev?" he asked her.

"Dead." Alina's voice was harder than it might have been now that she had shed her tears.

Nikolai nodded. Turning to Aleksander, he said, "We've assembled to discuss terms."

At that, the King querulously insisted, "We have not lost the war! There is no need for this."

"There is every need," his son countered, looking down at his father. If the combined might of our forces could not break the Grisha, they are not likely to in future skirmishes."

"This was only a part of our Alliance forces. We will return, and we will crush you in battle," the King spat.

"And then I will unleash the Fold and worse on you and yours," Aleksander said without a hint of emotion in his calm and steady voice.

At that, the King fell silent.

"You have lost," Aleksander continued, and now a small, bitter smile turned up the corner of his mouth. "We are no longer subject to your whims. And we will have peace on _our_ terms."

"And what are those terms?" the prince interjected.

Luckily, they had talked over their demands on the way to Kribirsk. Aleksander spoke, “From Ravka, we will take the new land that stands in place of the Unsea stretching from Kribirsk to the True Sea. From Fjerda, we will also take the timberlands up to Djerholm. And from the Shu Han, we will take the Western Sikurzoi down to the city of Dhez Ju."

Alina spoke up. "We will of course allow those who wish to stay to remain in their homes. Those who wish to leave for another country will be provided safe passage." 

Aleksander's face was unreadable, but at least he didn't contradict her words. He smoothly took up from where she had left off. "Each of your countries will free any Grisha who live within your borders and allow them to come to us here."

"And anyone else will be allowed to come to us as well," Alina finished.

"And what are we to call your new nation?" the Shu ambassador asked with what seemed to be genuine curiosity.

Aleksander turned to Alina, and there was pride in his eyes as she replied, "Zelenyyi Mir."

The ambassador nodded. The Fjerdan ambassador spoke up, saying, "These terms are agreeable." 

“They are agreeable to us as well,” the Shu ambassador said. 

Nikolai Lantsov looked at Alina as he said, "Ravka agrees to your terms," leaving the king sputtering uselessly beside him. 

After they finished hammering out the details, Aleksander and Alina turned and left the church to head back to their camp and the combined might of their people. Aleksander took her hand, and Alina could sense that the energy radiating off of him was so powerful that he might as well have been summoning shadows. Looking into his face, she saw that the culmination of his dreams was almost more than he could bear, and she recognized the feeling inside herself as well. 

But they would bear it together. And they would forge peace and more together as well.

\----------------

One month later…

Looking out a palace window at the eerie verdant beauty of what had once been the Fold, Alina Starkov pondered all that could have gone wrong and all that had ultimately gone right in the past month. She and Aleksander were in the thick of establishing the kingdom of Zelenyyi Mir--a massive task, but one that was necessary and rewarding.

It was not always easy. Aleksander was not an easy man to know, and not an easy man to live with, and not an easy man to love. But she did her best to know him, she did her best to live with him, and Saints knew she loved him. And that was the most important part of all.

They spent their days sitting beside each other on black and gold thrones, hearing petitions and passing judgements and decrees. The throne suited him much more than it did her, but in ruling together, they found their balance. Where he would be hard and ambitious, she would be merciful and content. Where she was unsure, he would help her find surety and confidence. And together, they were building a new world that thrived--where those who were Grisha lived in peace and prosperity with those who were not. 

Some citizens had left for Ravkan territory when given the choice to stay or go, but most had stayed and even more had flocked to the one safe place for Grisha in the entire continent, if not the world. They brought their families with them, and others came as well who were interested in opportunities to own a parcel of the new, lush landscape and to farm it. No longer were those who were not Grisha called _otkazat'sya_. Instead, those who forged alliances and marriages and friendships were the _ravnovesiye_. The balanced.

The city of Novokribirsk had become the new capital since it was a centralized location on the shore of the Green Sea, as the seemingly-undying land that had once been the Fold was called by one and all. It had been renamed Liniya--the shoreline--in a dedication ceremony attended by what must have been nearly all the citizenry of the new country. 

Alina still could scarcely believe she lived in what could only be described as a palace that sat outside the old city walls of Novokribirsk. It was built with obvious vestiges of the Little Palace in mind, with white marble instead of dark wood, but with the same elaborate decorations of birds and vines and prominent space devoted to Alina's and Aleksander's joined sigils that had flown on the battle flags in the Battle of Kribirsk. It was amazing what one could accomplish in a month with an army of dedicated Fabrikators intent on fashioning a stunning building. As of that moment, it housed a ballroom, a receiving hall, meeting chambers, and plenty of space for guests and those hired on as servants. Gardeners and architects were forming new spaces and gardens from the raw materials of the Green Sea.

The learning curve as a ruler was steep, but luckily Alina was never lacking for friends to see her through the roughest patches. Genya had agreed to be her primary political advisor, and Tolya and Tamar were in charge of her guard, which gave her a chance to get to know them better. Barriers were being broken down between the Grisha orders, and those representing the orders included David, who was now the council representative for the Fabrikators, while Ivan headed up the Corporalki, and a Grisha named Zoya whom Alina had yet to meet would represent the Etherealki.

Now, she found herself dragged out of her reverie by an arm snaking around her waist and pulling her close against a hard chest. She closed her eyes, reveling in the feel of Aleksander’s arms as he held her tightly to him. 

“What do you think the future holds?” she asked him after a long moment, curious what he thought would happen in the coming months and years.

“The future? I have a feeling it will hold many things for us. But whatever happens, we will face it together.”

“Together,” she agreed.

And as they looked out the window at the green grass and trees of their new land, Alina felt confident that they would grow in happiness and prosperity, sure in each other and joyful in what they had found and in what they would share from that day and every day forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, readers! Thank you a million times over for sticking with this, for liking, for commenting - it's meant the world to me. I've said many times that it's been a joy to write this fic, but that's really what it has been. If you're looking for more after this, I'm already most of the way through a companion fic, Dreams and Nightmares, that I'll start releasing soon. If you wondered what happens next for Alina and Aleksander (Do they actually get along when there isn't a war on? Are there consequences for Alina using so much _merzost_? What will Aleksander do with himself once he mostly gets what he wants? etc.) then please do check it out. Thanks once more, and take care of yourselves in this wild time. <3

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Dreams and Nightmares](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23262571) by [MyrsineMezzo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyrsineMezzo/pseuds/MyrsineMezzo)


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